Chapter 94: A Prayer with a Wish

Sophia stared at the smooth blank face of the token in her palm. The pale wood caught the cold light and seemed to almost glow against her dark gloves. Her breath rose in small, visible puffs while she hesitated, quill hovering, her fingers stiff with both cold and indecision.

At first, her mind had gone to the fact that there could be people searching for her. Family that she couldn’t remember that could be searching for her. She could write that she hoped they’d find her, or that they’d be at peace wherever they were. But as quickly as the thought came, another one followed.

Her amnesia wasn’t just hers. It was a wound she’d carried into the Nightshade pack, a question mark that weighed on people, on Orion, and even on Brynhild and Lysander. And there were some mysteries surrounding her that she couldn’t even place. Things she could not yet understand. She lowered the quill and chewed her lip.

When she finally started writing, her hand moved slow and deliberate, each letter pressed deep into the grain of the wood.

That my memories return, to ease the unrest I’ve caused.

She paused, then added beneath it, smaller but no less deliberate:

That the Moon Goddess grants peace and guidance to all who lost family during the enclave attack.

When she finished, she blew on the ink, so it could dry. All she needed to do after this was to hand it over to Lysander to help her hang it on the tree.

But as she turned, she noticed that Brynhild’s head was bowed. She held her own token lightly between her palms, fingers curled around it, eyes closed.

Sophia blinked. People were touching their tokens to their heads, holding it there for some time, before they hung them. Brynhild’s brow rested against the smooth disc, her long braids slipping forward to frame her face. Even Lysander had his pressed to his temple, eyes shut, jaw tight in concentration.

Sophia tilted her head. The guards had stepped back to give them privacy. A family a few steps away was doing the same thing, each person with their head bent to a small disc of wood. The entire clearing seemed to ripple with silent intention, as if the tree were inhaling all their wishes.

She glanced at her token again. Was that part of it? She looked at Brynhild, wanting to ask, but the captain’s stillness was so complete that Sophia’s throat closed on the question.

"Psst." She whispered but Brhnhild did not move or flinch and so, she leaned slightly closer, her voice a whisper so as not go draw unnecessary attention to them.

"Uh... Brynhild? What are you..."

Before she could finish, Lysander’s eyes opened. His gaze fixed on her as a frown marred his features.

"What are you doing?"

Sophia froze. "I...um...I was just... asking..."

"I’m not going to eat you Sophia, I may have the look but I’m perfectly harmless." He told her.

"Right yes. Um...what are you guys doing? Why are you putting the discs to your heads?" She asked him.

"Oh, that." Lysander said. "We say a short prayer before hanging the discs. It’s very short, just something that we do to make sure the wishes come true."

"Oh." Sophia said with understanding. "Right. Okay. Got it."

She nodded quickly, clutching the disc like it might slip away. Brynhild cracked one eye open and smiled faintly but didn’t speak. Lysander’s eyebrow arched in that way that meant he was a breath away from a teasing remark, but for once, he didn’t. He just shut his eyes again and returned to his prayer.

Sophia looked down at her token. She’d written the words. Now she had to make them mean something. She lifted it to her forehead, pressing the cool wood just above her brow.

She was silent for some time before awkwardly asking the moon goddess to grant her wish and those of everyone gathered here. That was all she did. Lysander said it was a short prayer so it didn’t have to be long.

But when she opened her eyes, she noticed the people who’d started praying before her were still praying, heads bent, lips moving. She hesitated. Was she supposed to pray for longer? Had Lysander lied to her? Not wanting to be left out, she closed her eyes again and tried to look like she was deep in prayer. Her mind went blank.

There was nothing more she could pray for except that the wish came true so she decided to just think of something else entirely.

Time stretched, to her it felt like hours although it was shorter. She cracked one eye open. Brynhild’s lips still moved faintly, Lysander’s head still bowed. She closed it again quickly. Okay. Just a little longer.

Her nose itched. She tried not to scratch it. She wondered how long these prayers were supposed to take. She peeked again. Now the entire group, the guards, Brynhild, Lysander, were all done with their prayers. They were waiting for her, watching her.

’What the hell?’ She thought to herself then quickly closed her eyes again like what she had seen wasn’t real at all.

But then, there was a soft voice by her side, "You can stop pretending now," Lysander murmured.

Her eyes flew open. He was looking at her with that faintly exasperated but undeniably amused expression he wore when Brynhild tried to dodge bedrest instructions.

"I wasn’t..." she started, then caught herself when she saw the knowing looks in everyone’s face. "Okay, maybe I was. I had to pray extensively you know?"

Lysander chuckled along with Brynhild.

"Yes, if you don’t pray like that, the moon goddess may likely never answer." Brynhild said with a smile.

A blush climbed to Sophia’s cheeks even as she tried to play it cool. "And here I thought Orion was the bad one. You lied to me didn’t you?" She asked Lysander.

"I told you it was a prayer." He replied to her.

"You said it was a very short one but when I opened my eyes everyone was still praying." She replied to him.

"Everyone has their definition of short." He replied to her.

Brynhild laughed. "You should have just stopped once you were done."

"But then I would have been the only one." Sophia told her.

"Not really." Brynhild told her. "Lysander doesn’t really pray, he just closes his eyes, more like a moment of silence for him?"

"You lied to me." Sophia told him.

"Not really, you asked a question and I answered." He told her.

Sophia turned to Brynhild. "He really is spending too much time with Orion."

The corners of his mouth twitched. He gestured toward the tree. "Whenever you’re ready."

Sophia’s face went hot as she realized every single person in their small group had been waiting for her and instead of just moving forward so as to not delay them, she was arguing with Lysander.

Sophia cleared her throat, straightened her cloak, and held the token out toward Lysander. "Here. Could you...?"

"Of course." His voice was smooth, a little too smooth, like he was hiding a smirk. He took the token and stepped forward to hang it carefully on one of the lower branches. The pale wood spun once in the wind, the writing glinting faintly before it settled.

Sophia tried to pretend there were no eyes on her as she stepped back, but she could feel them. Brynhild’s lips were pressed together in a line that quivered suspiciously. Lysander’s shoulders shook once as if he’d suppressed a chuckle.

"Why are your cheeks pink?" A little girl who had come with her parents asked her.

She folded her arms, chin lifted. "It’s cold," she said briskly, as if that explained her pink cheeks. "I’m just cold."

"Mm." Lysander’s grunt was pure noncommittal mischief.

"Yes," Brynhild said. "She’s just cold. The weather takes a toll on her."

Some few adults chuckled because they knew that her cheeks were not pink due to the cold but from embarrassment.

The guards, to their credit, didn’t smile, but Sophia was almost sure she saw one of them glance at the other and then look away quickly.

Sophia exhaled and looked back at the tree. The ribbons, the tokens, the prayers—her own among them now—shifted gently in the breeze like a field of tiny sails. For all her embarrassment, something in her chest felt lighter, as though pressing the token to her head had pressed something out of her.

Brynhild adjusted the parcel in her lap and glanced at Lysander. "We should move on before the path crowds up again."

He nodded and set his hands back on the chair’s handles, the runners creaking softly as he shifted his weight. "Ready?"

Sophia let out a breath and nodded. "Yeah. Ready."

They started back toward the edge of the clearing, leaving the tree behind, its branches heavy with everyone’s words, wishes, and prayers. As they moved, a breeze stirred, lifting the ribbons and making the tokens chime faintly against one another. The sound followed them like a blessing, or maybe like a promise.

And though Sophia kept her eyes forward, she couldn’t quite stop the small smile tugging at her mouth.