Hine's lungs convulsed as life returned, each gasp sharp and wet with the remnants of her last breath. She lay on the smooth obsidian floor of the plane Naberius had carved for her, a realm of silence and pale light, untouched by time. Her eyes fluttered open, red-rimmed from the endless screaming she had done hours ago. Or was it days? She no longer trusted her sense of time. Death had stripped that away long ago.
The first thing she felt was the familiar warmth. Naberius sat cross-legged beside her, her white robes pooling elegantly around her like a soft cloud against the stark blackness of the floor. In her lap, a soft bloom of light pulsed gently, the concentrated essence of life itself. Her eyes, irises glowing like molten gold, softened when they met Hine's trembling gaze.
"You are breathing," Naberius said quietly, her voice as smooth and melodic as a lullaby. "That is good. It means your soul is still anchored."
Hine tried to speak but the words caught in her throat. Her body still remembered the last loop. She had drowned in a frozen river, the weight of the current dragging her down, Ronova's voice taunting her in the deafening silence of the water. Her lungs had burned until they burst, and then there had been nothing but darkness, and then this—always this, her chest heaving as life returned.
She swallowed, tasting salt and fear. "I… I can't keep…" Her voice broke into a whisper. "I can't keep doing this."
Naberius reached forward and pressed her hand lightly against Hine's forehead. A warmth unlike anything mortal flared there, melting away the icy tremors that still clung to her nerves. "Yes, you can," Naberius said. "Because you already are. And because you have to."
Hine shut her eyes, tears slipping silently down her cheeks. She hated herself for how small she sounded. "It hurts," she said. "It hurts every time. And it's like she knows where to hit me so it never stops hurting."
"That is because she does know," Naberius said gently. "Ronova understands suffering more intimately than anyone else. And she will not stop until she has convinced you that this is meaningless. But you must remember, Hine…" Her hand trailed down, resting lightly over Hine's racing heart. "Pain is not the enemy. Oblivion is."
Hine's breath trembled as she turned her face toward Naberius. "Why me?" Her voice cracked under the weight of exhaustion and fear. "Why is she doing this to me? I don't even know what I did."
Naberius tilted her head slightly, her golden gaze unreadable. "You did nothing. That is what frightens her the most. You are chaos to her order, defiance she cannot predict. And that terrifies her."
Hine's hands curled into weak fists. "Then why… why do you keep bringing me back? Why do you keep… saving me?" There was no accusation in her voice, only a hollow confusion that begged for an answer.
The Ruler of Life smiled faintly, almost sadly. "Because you are not done," she said. "Life is balance, Hine. Every soul that breathes owes the world a purpose. You have not fulfilled yours. And until you do, I will not allow you to vanish."
"But what if…" Hine's voice broke, softer now, more fragile. "What if I never find her? What if all of this is just for nothing?"
At that, Naberius shifted closer. The glow of her presence, soft and nurturing, wrapped around Hine like a quiet embrace. She cupped Hine's face with both hands, her touch impossibly gentle for someone with the power to command life itself. "Then I will keep bringing you back," she said simply. "As many times as it takes. Ten times. A hundred. A thousand. I will not let your story end until you write its last page."
Hine blinked rapidly, tears spilling faster now. She had no words for the swell of emotion that crashed inside her — fear, gratitude, and something like fragile hope all tangled together in a knot too tight to untangle. She buried her face against Naberius's shoulder, her body trembling with silent sobs. The Ruler let her cry, her hands smoothing through Hine's damp hair in a slow, rhythmic motion that soothed the jagged edges of her panic.
"There is a rhythm to existence," Naberius murmured after a long silence, her voice soft and low. "Life and death, light and shadow, beginnings and endings. One cannot exist without the other. Even now, as you suffer, the balance holds. Every death you endure gives life to something new within you. A seed. A lesson. A strength you do not yet understand."
Hine tilted her head slightly, voice muffled in Naberius's robes. "It doesn't feel like strength."
"It rarely does in the moment," Naberius said with a knowing smile. "But strength is not always loud or fierce. Sometimes it is quiet. Sometimes it is simply breathing, even when everything in you begs to stop."
For a long moment, silence filled the space between them, broken only by the steady hum of the realm around them. It was peaceful here, this sanctuary Naberius had created between loops, and for the briefest of moments Hine allowed herself to relax into it. She inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with the soft, warm air that smelled faintly of spring rain and new earth.
Then, softly, she asked, "Do you ever… regret it? Being the Ruler of Life?"
Naberius paused. Her gaze drifted upward, thoughtful. "Sometimes," she admitted after a moment. "There are days when the weight of eternity feels… heavy. When I see mortals beg for death they cannot have, or when I know I must let someone go before they are ready. But then I remember why I chose this path. To nurture. To protect. To guide. And on days like this, when someone like you reminds me why life matters… I regret nothing."
Hine pulled back slightly to look at her. "Someone like me?"
"Yes," Naberius said, her golden eyes shining. "A mortal who refuses to break, no matter how many times they are shattered. Do you know how rare that is, Hine? To be unyielding in the face of eternity? It is… extraordinary."
The words lodged in Hine's chest like a spark she didn't know she needed. For the first time since this torment began, something resembling pride flickered within her. It was faint and fragile, but it was there, and it held her together as the reality of what awaited her settled back over her like a storm cloud.
Her voice trembled when she spoke again. "I don't know how much longer I can take it."
Naberius leaned in, her forehead resting lightly against Hine's. "Then take it one death at a time. One breath at a time. And when you cannot hold on, I will hold you. Do you understand?"
Hine closed her eyes and nodded, her throat too tight for words. For a moment, they simply stayed there in silence, the quiet bond between them stronger than any words could describe.
Then, slowly, Naberius pulled back. Her expression softened, but there was steel beneath it — the quiet strength of someone who had shepherded countless souls through agony and rebirth. "It is time," she said softly. "Ronova will not wait."
Fear coiled cold and sharp in Hine's stomach, but beneath it was something else. Not courage exactly, but something close — the faint spark of defiance that refused to die, no matter how many times Ronova crushed her. She stood, unsteady but upright, and turned to face the edge of the realm where the rift awaited to pull her back into the loop.
Naberius rose beside her and placed a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Remember," she said, her voice warm and steady. "You are more than your pain. And you are never alone in it."
Hine met her gaze, and for a fleeting moment, the fear quieted. She nodded once, gripping that fragile comfort as tightly as she could before stepping toward the rift.
The world around her dissolved into light.