She considered the question as they walked, their intertwined hands swinging lightly between them. “I think I do.” She continued, “It is still odd, of course. And I would rather avoid the darker souls altogether. But the rest … it is heartbreaking how many there are, and how their lives—full and real and detailed—have been reduced to a series of impulses and emotions. It is as if someone made a shaded copy of an etching on a piece of paper. And then copied that paper, and the next, again and again until all but the most pronounced designs of the original etching had been lost. That is what so many of these spirits are. They are holding onto trauma from memories they no longer have. I feel like I get to provide them an escape. And I do not know, maybe … maybe a few of them will find their way to the next life through it.”

“You think that possible?”

Aurora shrugged. “I do not even know if there is a next life. I only know that these spirits are stuck here, and they should not be.”

“Have you thought…” Kiran hesitated, unsure how she would react, then decided not to censor himself with her. “Have you thought about whether you would ever take another storm? Like with the skyfire?”

Aurora swallowed. “If you had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have been outraged that you even asked. It would have been a firm no. I still want the answer to be a no. But…” She sighed. “But … things are complicated, and compromises have to be made. I cannot expect everyone else to fight a war, while I stay clean. I—I do not know.”

He squeezed her hand. “You do not have to know. We can take things one step at a time. On every front.”

He regretted the turn down which his questions had taken the conversation, for she was somber as they arrived at the area where they worked. Like all the days before, he set out their supplies. He had learned to let her take her time. In truth, he could barely even call what he was doing hunting.

So far, most of the storms she had conjured had remained calm, not at all like the predatory tempests to which he was accustomed. Often, Aurora was even able to direct the spirit toward him and asked it to remain still while he collected magic, then she would send it off to gallivant on its own for a bit, before drawing it back in for the next collection. It was more like corralling a distracted child than a storm.

But he was not complaining.