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African Romantasy2 min readChapter 24 of 25

What Remains

The funeral is in Istanbul. My mother chooses it. My father was born there, and somewhere between Lagos, Edinburgh and every city he worked in, Istanbul remained the place he called home without thinking. People come from everywhere. Family I haven’t seen in years. Colleagues. Friends. Daniel flies in. James too. Kareem stands near the back. The Council sends a formal representative. My mother does not let her near us. Some things do not change. Saoirse stays beside me. Not touching me constantly. Not asking whether I am okay. Just there. At the cemetery, I remember my father standing in my flat and asking whether I wanted to understand what was happening to me. I hate him a little for being right.

BettyWhyt4 October 2026
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The funeral is in Istanbul. My mother chooses it. My father was born there, and somewhere between Lagos, Edinburgh and every city he worked in, Istanbul remained the place he called home without thinking. People come from everywhere. Family I haven’t seen in years. Colleagues. Friends. Daniel flies in. James too. Kareem stands near the back. The Council sends a formal representative. My mother does not let her near us. Some things do not change. Saoirse stays beside me. Not touching me constantly. Not asking whether I am okay. Just there. At the cemetery, I remember my father standing in my flat and asking whether I wanted to understand what was happening to me. I hate him a little for being right.

Grief allows contradictions. Back in Edinburgh, the Council requests a meeting. I almost refuse. Then I go. Dr Vale looks older. The fracture was not caused by me. An experimental monitoring system beneath the Observatory amplified an instability the Council had been tracking for months. They knew the system carried risk. They used it anyway.

“Who authorised it?” I ask.

“I did.”

The room goes still. Dr Vale does not hide behind committee language.

“I believed controlled exposure was safer than waiting.”

“My father died.”

“Yes.”

It is not enough. Nothing will ever be enough. The Council votes to suspend the Edinburgh programme and open its historical records to independent review. Useful. Late. I tell them my terms. No more observation without consent. No more classifying children before they are old enough to understand what classification means. No more treating Bridges or any other designation as equipment. Kareem watches me.

“And you?” he asks.

“I’m not joining the Council.”

Dr Vale nods.

“But I will help study what happened.”

“Under whose authority?”

“Mine.”

For the first time, nobody argues. Outside, Saoirse is waiting.

“How did it go?”

“I may have threatened twelve scholars.”

“Only twelve?”

“I’m grieving. My standards are low.”

She smiles. Then her eyes fill. Mine do too. This time, neither of us pretends not to notice.

Scent note in this chapter

After loss, the fragrance represents continuity rather than transformation. Emre remains recognisably himself even as grief, responsibility and love become permanent parts of his structure.

That ending… how are you feeling?

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Chapter 25

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