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Back Into the Dying Light Save as PDF
Chapters (72)
  1. Copyright Notice
  2. Dedication
  3. I
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. BEFORE
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. BEFORE
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. BEFORE
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. BEFORE
  25. II
  26. 18
  27. 19
  28. 20
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. III
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. IV
  52. 42
  53. 43
  54. 44
  55. 45
  56. 46
  57. 47
  58. 48
  59. 49
  60. 50
  61. 51
  62. 52
  63. 53
  64. 54
  65. 55
  66. 56
  67. 57
  68. 58
  69. AFTER
  70. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  71. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  72. Newsletter Sign-up

The voice in her head, the creature that had seized control of her body, was not the god. Or, it was not all that the god was.

She saw now.

She saw the parts that had been forgotten to it.

I know you, she thought as she felt the esha of the world stretch out from her. Just as the god had once been everything, it was also her.

The god screamed inside her. Beru called back.

You loved them. You loved them, these creatures you created who became so much more and so much less than you wanted. You loved them, even in their wickedness and selfishness. You loved them in their grief and their joy, in their broken parts and in all the things you could not understand.

NO.

You loved them even as they betrayed you.

She remembered. The creatures that had been of it, the mortals it had created. How they made the god more than it ever had been before. How they made it too much. How they created their own wills as the god had once created its own.

And you love them now.

YOU ARE WRONG.

I can see into your heart.

LOVE IS HUMAN.

And it is divine.

Beru reached for the god, every thread of her esha straining as the god burned and burned.

I know your heart. It is my heart. I know your mind. It is my mind. I know your love. It is my love.

With a voice that shook the sky, Beru spoke the name of the god. The name that lived at the core of it, that bound it together, that unraveled it. It wasn’t a name like mortals gave themselves, but a name that existed in the language of all things, the language that made up the universe—vibration and resonance, thunder and light.

She spoke the name of the god, and it was her name, too.

The name of the girl in the shade of the acacia tree, saying goodbye to her sister. The girl stringing beads and glass together, searching for beautiful things in an ugly, brutal world. The girl standing beside Hector in a hidden grotto, unable to hide the love that filled her heart, like a cup brimming full of water.

The girl who lived and died and lived again.

The name was burden and grief and atonement. It was love and joy and kindness. It was anger. It was fury quelled by love. It was hope. Resurrection and rebirth.

And the god answered her, calling back until their voices were one, and then Beru could no longer hear it, could no longer feel its will as separate from her own.

She sang out the name of the god, and the universe answered.

Light tore through the darkness.