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

by Carissa Broadbent

“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?”

My heart is shattering :)

I picked up the stick with a trembling hand. Slowly, I drew a line—long, curved, encompassing all the frames, with a delicate point at the bottom. Then one in the middle, slightly upturned at the edges. And at last, I drew two more shapes near the top. Eyes. One green, in the center of the shape on the left. The other silver. The shapes weren’t a map, or an island, or a code. They were the boundaries where tan skin met white. They were a face. Tisaanah’s face.

Shatter me again, baby

“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.”

“I’m not much for words, so I’ll only say this once. 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.”

You just have to sound strong but also relatable, proud but also humble, aggrandizing but also honest, hopeful but also realistic, and all without sounding rehearsed. Easy!

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.”

“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 are my home, Max. I never allowed myself to believe I would ever have one. I never allowed myself to think that I could keep one, if I did. But I have realized that there is bravery in hope for the future.

As we walked to the gardens, I picked a few red blossoms from the bushes that lined the path and tucked them into Tisaanah’s hair. When she grinned at me in response, there were no gowns or makeup or magic in the world that would have made her more beautiful than she was in that moment.

“I give you my soul. It’s not a perfect one. It’s a little messy. You inherit some scars. But… all the good parts are for you. From the minute you showed up at my door, all the good parts were for you.”

She was just… lost. A poor, lost heart like I had once been, ripped from world after world, belonging to nothing and everything, desperate for connection.

All this time, I felt that death circled me like a lost lover. I had longed for it, loved it, lusted after it. Now my lover had become death, and all I craved was life.

“Are you afraid?” he asks me. At first I want to tell him that I am. But then I think of the night I asked him if he feared death. I fear only what it may take from me, he told me. I realize that there is nothing that death can take from me, now. The only thing I need is here. I have left my mark upon the world. I have written a new story. And I have him. Love is worth creating for. Worth dying for. “No,” I answer. Together we turn to the door. Together we will cross it. Together we will conquer the next unknown. His hand reaches out for me. His lips curl into a sad smile. “Come home, Aefe,” he murmurs. I love how he says my name. I take his hand.

I do not believe in gods anymore. But maybe there’s something like a miracle, here. I think of my mother’s words in a dream that felt very real. You have survived, my daughter. Now live.