Process, Part 5 (CROSS//Process)

Contents Title Page Copyright Series Order 1. Chapter 1 2. Chapter 2 3. Chapter 3 4. Chapter 4 5. Chapter 5 6. Chapter 6 7. Chapter 7 8. Chapter 8 9. Chapter 9 10. Chapter 10 Get PART 6 Free Stories! FB Group CROSS//Process, Part 5 Hildred M. Billings Copyright CROSS//Proces Part 5 Copyright: Hildred M. BillingsPublished: 6th March, 2023Publisher: Barachou Press This is a work of fiction. Any and all similarities to any characters, settings, or situations are purely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format. Series Order MAIN SERIES REBIRTH REVENGE REGRESS REPENT RELEASE PREQUELS PROCESS PROPHET one C erilyn; Federation Year 4527 Sulim’s second Cerilynian funeral was a slap in the face. One of the last things this poor girl felt. She couldn’t shake the scene from her mind. From the moment she heard the screams in the hallway to when the dagger hit Graella’s back, the past day had been a living nightmare. Because although Sulim had seen a dead body before, Graella’s was the first to affect her. She stood next to Sonall as his sister’s body was brought out from the makeshift morgue in the bowels of the fortress. I told him. One of the hardest things Sulim had ever done, either before or after coming to Cerilyn. I will never forget last night. Graella’s death had at least been swift. She might not have even realized she was dying before her soul returned to the Void. It was Sonall’s reaction that had kept Sulim up most of the night. Mostly because he hadn’t reacted. Sulim told him twice to make sure it registered in his head that his sister was dead and the funeral would be later the next morning. Yet Sonall had merely stared at her, his eyes devoid of any emotion—as if he knew this was coming. “They found her,” was what Sulim told him, before making sure everyone in the junior dormitory knew the “official” story. “She killed herself. I’m really sorry. She… she chose death, you know? It’s a noble way to go around here. I hear they’re retroactively making her a mercenary. She’ll get the best burial they offer here. Someone’s added her name to the book already.” Sulim didn’t have to ask who. When she saw it after breakfast, it was while one of the maids grumbled about getting blood off the glass. That was Graella’s blood. And that was a drop of Graella’s blood on the book, right by her and her brother’s names. Yet none of this moved Sonall, who was the first to show up to the funeral grounds at midmorning. Sulim found him there, ripping sand weeds out of the dusty dirt and twisting them into bows. When Graella’s body was rolled out on its gurney, the man with a mask over his face and old gloves on his hands waited for Sonall to observe his sister and add the twisted weeds to her body. One he tied in her hair. Another he attempted to place beneath her hands, but rigor mortis made the mortician shake his head. All of this was done wordlessly while Sulim stayed at a respectful distance. The only thing to make her perk up was the presence of Kila, who stood on the edge of the funeral grounds before approaching Sulim first. “Cairn sends her regards,” she said. “All things considered, it’s best that she’s not here. But she wanted to be.” Sulim gazed at the boy leaning over his sister’s body and holding back his tears. “He’s lost everything.” Kila’s sigh was neither deceitful nor regretful. “It’ll either turn him into a great mercenary or send him after his sister.” “You mean…?” “Under these circumstances, it’s best if we stay between him and the cliff. He wouldn’t be the first to jump in after someone. Seen it myself a couple of years ago. You know, I’ve killed some people, but that’s the shit that sticks with you. The level of despair… ugh.” Sulim hadn’t considered that. Sonall stepped back from his sister’s corpse. Sulim was grateful that he couldn’t see the giant gash on her back. I told him she poisoned herself. Numbroot. Easy enough to believe she had stolen it from the medicinal stores. Even easier to think that was how Graella would commit suicide. “Hey, I heard what happened,” Kila said to Sonall, who merely looked at her as if she were another body standing in his vicinity. “I’m sorry. I knew her a bit. She seemed kind.” Sonall spoke for the first time all morning. “She was the kindest person I ever knew. Far kinder than anyone here.” Kila kept her scoff to herself. Sulim, however, knew what he meant. “She was too kind for this place.” The mortician rolled the gurney to the slab. Sulim couldn’t bring herself to watch as he and the middle-aged woman running the funeral loaded the corpse onto its viewing place. As a person of respect. Sulim hadn’t told Sonall what the funerals on Cerilyn were like. She wondered if anyone had prepared him for how garish they could be. Then again, from the way he kept his eyes on the vultures circling overhead, he had probably already figured it out. “Is this everyone?” The woman by the slab gestured to the three people standing behind her. “Fancy seeing you here,” she said to Kila. “Yeah, well…” “Any of you got anything you want to say about the deceased? Sorry, I realize this is a mercenary’s funeral, but as you can see it’s a low turnout. Poor thing’s roommates didn’t even show.” The woman checked her watch. “It’s time. I hate to say this, but I’ve got another funeral in an hour, and I have to… well, there’s a