Mother of Death & Dawn (The War of Lost Hearts, #3)

by Carissa Broadbent

It’s not all that hard to keep yourself sane, so long as you’re flexible with your definition of the term.

“You are going to die. But do not fear death. Death is a door, and though none of us can follow you through it today, you will cross its threshold knowing that the mark you have left behind will be a worthy one. This is not an end.”

“One hundred and eighty thousand days, and I thought of you in every one.”

“When Max believes in something, he gives it his whole self. It’s his greatest strength and greatest weakness. And you, Tisaanah, were the first thing he had believed in for a long, long time. It takes more than four walls to break that kind of faith.”

“His heart is what truly lit the fires of war, and the fire burns because of you. The decision was for all of us, yes. But the vengeance? The vengeance is for you

It wasn’t so much as a movement, but Max saw it anyway.

“It was a gift, Max,” she murmured. “A gift to have known you. I hope that you have the most incredible, happy life. I hope you find a future worth forgetting your past. Make it worth it. Find joy. Do you understand?”

A realization came to me, one that I had been grappling with for the last ten years. There was no single moment when everything changed. No single before and after. There was just… life. A million decisions and a million consequences.

How much does a memory weigh? Too much to carry alone.

“Because I realized that, even though I didn’t remember you, I knew you. That sort of thing was bigger than a few memories.”

Once I’d thought that love was the sum of its parts, the result of a collection of traits and experiences, like a structure steadily built from bricks layered over bricks. If you collect enough of them, there is love. But that had been a child’s view of the world. The bricks were important, but what they created was more than just a pile of stones. It was the difference between a house and a home. If the building burns down, something is still there that makes it home. If the memories are gone, something is still there that makes it love.

“You want the truth? The memories are hard, yes. But none of that scared me as much as the prospect of exactly how close I came to never seeing you again. That’s what fucking terrifies me.”

If you ever have to guess what I want, or what is best for me, it is you. Alright? I have made that decision already. I do not make it lightly. Don’t disrespect that by claiming that you know better for me than I do. I have made bad decisions before. But you are not, never have been, and never will be one of them. It is always you.”

I love your scars and hate the person who gave them to you.

I realized that people sometimes need you to be a different version of yourself. Sometimes, it being important to them”—he nodded out to the dancing crowd—“is enough to make it important to me. So I pretend.”

I could tell you something encouraging. I could make you promises of victory. But I don’t like to make promises unless I know, beyond a doubt, that I can keep them. The only one I feel comfortable making now is that I will never lie to you. “I know how greedy tragedy is. It consumes everything. It consumes hope; it consumes faith. And in the absence of hope, the only thing that seems worth doing is nothing. The only perfect action. The only path forward. But I met someone who once told me that it is a privilege to do nothing. Many people never get that choice.”

“I might be a fool for saying it,” he said. “But I believe we can be better than where we have been. I believe we can survive this, and survive it better, and give ourselves and our children a better version of ourselves. And that’s what we are fighting for, today. For a better, imperfect dawn after a long, imperfect night. I want to see that sunrise with you. Meet me there.”

“You have always had such a tender heart, my love. Even when you were just a child, I feared what the world might do with it.”

“It is still a part of you, no matter what made your flesh. You can’t run from your past. You can’t run from your blood. Those are things you cannot kill, no matter how many hearts stop beating.”

“Do not fear death, my daughter. We all walk with one foot in each world. There is beauty in impermanence. And what sad lives we would live, if we never loved anything we would lose.”

“You have a chance to make another story, Aefe. Make it one of creation, of life. Not destruction. I want better for you than to burn alive in your own rage.”

“I love you, Aefe. I love you imperfectly, but completely.”

“I won’t force you,” he murmured. “But I ask you. Please. I want… I want to fill my last days with you. I have spent my entire life chasing knowledge, but now the only thing that I want to know is you. Every part of you. I want you to be the last thing I see when death comes for me. And I want you beside me when we build this new world.”