Chapter Text
"…So it's lucky that I was able to drop by today," Lara said brightly. "I'm not sure how long the repairs for Cosim will take, but Neinheart said that I should be ready to leave at any moment."
"I see," Von Leon said.
"Are you excited to go back home?" Lara asked.
"Home… is not a word that I would normally use to describe that place."
"But…?" she asked, smiling encouragingly.
"But… I am not discontent with the idea," he conceded. "I have been away too long."
Nearly a month had passed since he had first been brought into Alliance custody. True to Cygnus' word, he had not been remanded, nor had any formal charges been brought against him. Instead, he had spent that time under evaluation by a team of doctors who specialized in treating ailments of the mind.
He had been surprised to know that such doctors existed. They certainly hadn't during his time. It seemed that quite a bit had changed over the centuries. Though, he thought, some things still remained the same. Cygnus had confessed to him that transferring him directly to the facility would pose some difficulties.
Though not many could recognize him as a Commander, there was still a chance that his identity would be revealed, which, as Cygnus had put it, would not be conducive towards an atmosphere for a center of healing.
And so, he had instead been assigned a team of doctors who would visit him directly in his quarters. Neinheart himself had made the suggestion, though he had been sure to double security, no doubt because of the Alliance's last disastrous attempt at holding a Commander. And so, he had spent the last few weeks under observation and treatment by several Piyo professionals.
From what he understood, the Piyos were a race of bird-like creatures who had all been created by the divine bird of Ereve, Shinsoo. The Piyos were quite knowledgeable, as would be expected from beings created to serve as helpers.
In his time under their care, he had found them to be reasonably competent. His treatment had mainly just been conversations – mostly about himself, and sometimes about the changed world.
Though the Piyos would occasionally nudge him gently with a question or two, he had been surprised to find that for the most part, he was the one who had decided what and how much they would talk about. The Piyos had been patient with him, despite his reticence, and they had arranged for small provisions to give him a sense of freedom amidst the guards and surveillance.
After several weeks of this routine, the Piyos had decided that he would be free to return home, explaining that they had determined that he was no longer a danger to himself or others. He had wondered how they had been able to determine that when he had said almost nothing during his time, though he supposed that reading between the lines was something that their profession specialized in.
With his time ending, he couldn't help but feel as though there were more things that he should have asked. More than anything else, there was one thing that he was rather curious about, which was that the Piyos seemed to harbor no ill will towards him.
It had been strange, when some of them were certainly old enough to remember the attack on Ereve which had taken Empress Aria's life. He hadn't been directly responsible, of course. Lotus and Orchid had taken the credit for that. But he, along with the other Commanders, had sent their forces to reinforce the twins by sacking the rest of the city.
But it seemed that they had buried the past where it lay. And, it seemed, it was time for him to do the same, as Lara kept reminding him. She had visited him quite frequently during his time under the Alliance's care, checking on his progress and telling him of her own missions.
The night before her mission to Cernium many months ago, Cygnus had taken her aside and spoken with her especially.
"We've only just beaten the Black Mage. I thought we were finally at peace. Yet here we are facing another threat," Cygnus said, turning to Lara. "And I have more news. The moment the dimensional seal broke, ancient ruins and artifacts all over the world lit with an unusual magical glow. Our people speculate it is because the Ancient Gods are awakening."
"What does that mean for us?" Lara asked.
"Well… until now, the only one powerful enough to face a Transcendent was you, the Adversary who bore the Seal Stone. That's why the heaviest burden always fell to you. But if we can discover how to use the power of the Ancient Gods, we'd be far stronger than when we took on the Black Mage!"
Lara looked at Cygnus in surprise.
"You mean… you think more people in the Alliance would be able to fight Darmoor with the Ancient Gods' power?"
"Exactly. It's something that I've been working out with Neinheart for some time now. He and I both agree that we've made you shoulder everything for far too long. After everything that you've been through, it wouldn't be fair to keep asking you to sacrifice so much for us. That's why Neinheart has been researching every lead that we've gotten on anything that can give us a chance at facing a Transcendent."
"Did he find anything?"
"One of our Knights found a book on ancient powers long ago – powers that have long since faded from the world. We thought that it was a dead end, but now that those powers are returning, we believe that there's a chance that we can use them to help support you in the fight against Darmoor. I want to make sure that when that battle happens, you won't have to face him alone. Not this time."
And so, Lara had been sent to Cernium in order to learn more about the Ancient Gods and their power. And, as she had told him before, the mission had gone disastrously wrong, with Darmoor himself appearing and shattering the Seal Stone.
Since then, the Alliance had found no leads until a mysterious man known as Cosim had sent them to Arcus, a remote desert in Grandis, where they had found a hotel in the middle of nowhere that had somehow been home to a slumbering Ancient God named Archelon. And, most peculiarly, that god had programmed his consciousness in the form of a robot who served as the hotel bartender.
Soon after, the Alliance had been led to Karote, a tower that built itself endlessly into the sky, where an immense floating laboratory called Odium – a place which had created cybernetic Adversaries in the unknown past – remained hidden in the clouds. And it was on the path to Odium that Lara now seemed to find herself as she waited for the Alliance to decide its next move.
"After such a long string of setbacks, will the Alliance truly authorize yet another mission into unknown territory?" Von Leon asked.
"I really hope so. I know I always say this, but this time, it really does feel like that's where all the answers are. Even though it lately seems like the more answers that I get, the more questions I find. Like what Archelon said. About how Karote and Odium came from a time when the line between good and evil vanished. He told me that what's inside the laboratory might be too much for a human heart to handle. If that means what I think it means…"
"You believe it has something to do with your calling."
Lara nodded earnestly. "The people who made this bell… they did something unforgivable. And they lost everything that made them human because of it, just like what Archelon said. And back then, when I first met Archelon – he recognized my bell for a moment. I think it was from his old memories, from before he fell asleep. I can't help but think it's all connected somehow. Like it's… it's…" she said, struggling to find the right word.
"Destiny," Von Leon finished.
"Yeah!" Lara agreed. "Like everything's been leading up to this moment."
"Like all paths are coming together."
"…It feels strange," she said, holding up the bell. "It's been such a long journey that I forgot that it has to end someday."
"What will you do?" Von Leon asked. "When you face that destiny?"
Lara smiled. "A lot of people have been believing in me to make their hopes come true. And I've been through a lot trying to reach them. Whatever happens, I'm grateful for everything that's led me here."
"Everything?"
"Everything," Lara said, nodding. "It wasn't always easy, and sometimes it really hurt to keep going. Honestly, there were times that I wanted to give up. But it's when things got hard that I looked around, and I realized that I already had everything that I needed right beside me. My friends are what make me strong, and I want to be strong for people who can't be strong themselves – people who are all alone and need someone to be there for them. And I don't just want to help them, either – I want to help them be strong, too. I want to help them so that even when I'm not there, they'll be able to help themselves."
"And in this way, you deliver their salvation back in their hands," Von Leon said. "Then, do I take it that you are a savior no longer?"
Lara paused to consider his words.
"Maybe I am to some people," she replied. "But that's not how I want to see myself anymore. I didn't do the right thing just because I was a hero. And just because I'm not the Adversary anymore, it doesn't mean that I can't keep being one. With or without the Seal Stone, I'm going to keep making my own destiny."
"It's interesting," Von Leon noted. "In a way, nothing has changed about you. You still have that innocent gleam in your eyes, just as you did when we first met years ago. But even so, you have changed. That gleam, having once dimmed, shines brighter now that it has been restored."
And as he thought about it, he realized that the girl had been on a long journey just to return back to where she had started. Yet, it did not seem correct to call it stagnation. Where she stood had not changed, but the journey had still been made. Damien seemed to have believed so, at least.
Had he still lived, his path would have taken him back to his mother. He would have tried every route and circled back to where he had started, over and over again, until he made it back to the beginning. A quiet night of peace and warm laughter, without a shred of violence at his doorstep.
"You've changed, too, you know," Lara pointed out. "Your energy… it's warmer."
"Is it?" Von Leon asked, somewhat bemused. "I would not have thought that I could ever be described as 'warm'."
Lara laughed, and he couldn't help but smile in response. He realized that after his meeting with Damien, this was the second time in centuries that he had managed to smile. He hadn't realized it back then, but even after all this time, it came so easily to him. As though Ifia had just made a joke.
A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," Cygnus said, standing at the threshold. "Claudine was asking for you, Lara. On the comms channel."
"Oh, is it time?" Lara asked eagerly, standing up. "I'll be right there!"
She turned back to Von Leon. "I hope you have a good trip back home! I'll come visit as soon as I can, okay?"
Von Leon nodded. "I will await your return. Until then, safe travels."
"You too! I'll tell you everything once I come back!" Lara promised.
She smiled brightly as she rushed out the door. Cygnus watched her leave before turning to face Von Leon.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Ready to return home," he answered. "Unless you've changed your mind."
"No. I never go back on my word. And besides… even if we wanted to detain you, Ereve is no longer a secure holding site."
"After Will's escape, you mean."
"Yes. Even Neinheart admitted as much. We've kept you under observation and the consensus is that releasing you is the safest choice. I don't believe that you pose any risk at this point."
"May I ask you something?" he inquired. "Why not hold me responsible for my actions as a Commander? Currently, your knights are seeking to recapture Will, and my understanding is that Lucid will be prosecuted once she awakens from her coma."
"Commander Lucid's fate is undecided," Cygnus corrected. "It depends entirely on whether she seeks to make amends."
"…I see," he replied shortly.
Perhaps Cygnus sensed what he had been thinking, for she continued on.
"Her actions aside, we've not overlooked the fact that she's a child whose isolation and fragile mental state was manipulated and exploited by the Black Mage," Cygnus explained. "Just as we've not overlooked the fact that you genuinely regret your actions, and that you stopped being a Commander out of your own free will."
"And what do you expect of me once I am released?" Von Leon asked.
"That's something that I wanted to ask of you," Cygnus replied. "What do you plan to do after your release?"
"I have… certain affairs to get in order," he explained. "Something personal and quite important to me."
"I understand."
"And after that… I do not know. I seek to move forward. And for that, I must find a path to follow. I suppose you've come to lay that path before me."
Cygnus shook her head. "Your path is yours to decide. My role as Empress is to guide the world towards its brightest future. But that doesn't mean guiding my people by the hand. I only light the way for them. To support them on whatever path they've chosen themselves."
"And you consider me one of your people?"
"Of course. If you aren't an enemy of this world, then that means you exist as part of it."
"Even after once being such an enemy?"
"I won't reject someone who seeks to do good. I'm sure you know this by now, but many people in the Alliance have done regrettable things in the past. It may surprise you to know that I consider myself one of these people."
"No, it doesn't surprise me," he replied. "I was once a king. I know the price of leadership."
"Then you understand when I say that I have made a number of costly mistakes in my reign. The people of Ariant, the people of Tynerum… I've turned away from their suffering, ignored their plights, all because the Black Mage needed to be stopped. And now, I fear it may be too late to make amends."
She sighed quietly.
"So you see, I have done great harm to my own people. And yet, they continue to believe in me. Perhaps I don't deserve their forgiveness. But I still have my duty as their Empress. That is the path I've chosen. So if that's what's holding you back from choosing yours, then don't. Lay your sins before the world, and then let them go. If you've been given another chance, then find a better path. As many times as it takes, as long as people still believe in you. Even if it's just the one, we owe it to that one person to show that they weren't mistaken to put their faith in us."
Von Leon hesitated for a moment.
"...I wonder sometimes whether the choice I made was wrong. Whether I should have joined the alliance of my time against the Black Mage. Perhaps if I had, my people would not have been slaughtered."
"You can't blame yourself for what happened," Cygnus replied. "You only did what you thought was best to keep your people safe. What the alliance did was… senseless. Irrational. I only know what little history still remains of that time, but I don't believe that anyone could have predicted what they would choose to do."
"The Black Mage did," Von Leon pointed out. "He sealed the fate of my kingdom from the moment that he began his war. If the alliance hadn't killed my people, if I hadn't destroyed them in turn, he would have wiped us all out regardless. In the end, he never needed me as a Commander. My use to him expired the moment that the Dragon Master's beacon was lit. I was simply the catalyst for uniting the heroes who sealed him away."
"He turned people's feelings into weapons," Cygnus said. "Using and discarding them as he saw fit just to get whatever he wanted. As though they were nothing more than common objects to him. Whatever good intentions he had cannot erase all the damage that he's done. To all of us."
As she spoke, he noticed the way that the light bounced off her face. She couldn't have been more than eighteen, twenty at latest, and yet there were creases and lines across her face, making her seem years older than what she really was. And in her blonde hair were wisps of silver. Perhaps there may have even been streaks, carefully styled and hidden from view.
In fact, he seemed to remember the Black Mage arranging for the Gate to the Future to be consumed by an illusion, courtesy of Lucid. A ruined future in which Cygnus and her knights had been corrupted and turned against the people of Maple World. He recalled how that older Cygnus looked – grayish silver hair, the same color as the strands in her hair right now.
He wondered what Cygnus felt when she looked in the mirror. When she made decisions that she couldn't live with, when the stress of it took years from her youth, did she see that dark version of herself looking back at her? Did she feel a pang of fear when she realized that she was turning into that person with each passing day, each uncomfortable choice? Or did she simply choose not to look at herself at all?
He thought about himself, too. How he had once prided himself on being able to stand tall before the mirror each day as the mighty Lion King of El Nath. To his people, his red mane had been a symbol of his timeless courage and wisdom. Ifia would joke that the day his hair would gray would be the day that the evergreens of El Nath would start to yellow. To her – and to his people – he was everything that a king ought to be. A king who could do no wrong. He wondered how many of them had cursed his name as they died.
"I couldn't protect anyone when I was needed the most," Von Leon said. "He took everything from me, and he kept taking until the very end. It took the sacrifice of an entire world just to put an end to his machinations, and yet it's still not enough. One war has ended, and another looms in the distance. I know what the Black Mage was capable of. If another Transcendent has turned his eyes upon Maple World, then the blood that spills will be immense. And if he is anything like the Black Mage, he's certain to have gathered powerful beings to aid him."
"From the encounters that we've had, we know one thing for certain. Gerand Darmoor uses very different methods than the Black Mage. He has no problem involving himself personally to execute his plans. And his allies… he calls them his Apostles. Twelve of them. And so far, we've only met one. The stakes this time are nothing like before. It's not just our world under threat. Our allies in Grandis… Lara's friends and family… they have no one to rely on but us. And truthfully, I'm afraid that it won't be enough. I don't know if Lara's told you, but our Alliance is on the verge of dissolution."
"I suppose that was to be expected," Von Leon replied. "Your Alliance was made to face the Black Mage. Without that common goal, there is nothing left to unify your people. An unknown threat from another world is not enough to keep that union from fracturing."
"Exactly. So now you understand the full picture. I hope that it's enough to help you decide which path to take."
"And you will accept my answer regardless?"
"I will."
"Then this is my answer."
He took a deep breath.
"I lost everything that I cared about centuries ago. And I did not wish to care again. I was not just content to sever myself from the world. I rid myself of every desire because I did not believe I deserved it, even as I wished not to be in pain. Even now, I feel my mind pushing back against itself. When I return home, I will undoubtedly feel it more strongly. It compels me to bury myself in the past. To hate myself. To wound myself. That is the path I've walked before, and the path I may walk yet again."
But as Cygnus listened, she noticed a glint in his eye as he spoke. A spark of life that had returned behind his once-glassy stare. He took another breath and continued.
"But that is not the path I wish to walk any longer. I've spent centuries denying myself the right to be human, but that humanity – wounded, maimed, and bleeding as it may be – has not been extinguished. And it took the unyielding faith of many others to make me turn my gaze back towards it."
And as he spoke, he felt something stir within him. A sensation of conviction. That every syllable uttered was the truth. The pride of a lion staring up at the sky, standing fearless in the sunlight. For just a moment, he had reclaimed some small measure of glory in himself. And so, there was nothing left for him to fear.
"My desire to atone is selfish. I want it because I want to show her that her faith in me was not misplaced. I want it because I want to displace all my sins with virtues. Perhaps that hypocrisy will unravel me one day. Because I don't believe that I will ever be good the way that she is, the way that it comes to her like second nature. But I know that where she walks is filled with light. And if my selfish desire is enough to let me walk beside her, then I will place my trust in it."
Cygnus smiled slightly. "I'm sure that she'll be glad to hear it. Our battles never seem to end, and we have no shortage of enemies. It's fortunate to know that you're not one of them."
But then, she frowned. "Be that as it may, however, there is one more thing I feel that I must say. Although we now stand together, there is much that you still have to answer for. Moving forward isn't as easy as simply wanting it. I don't wish for the past to hound you, but I also don't wish you to forget the harm that you've inflicted on our world."
"That harm has left its mark on me. I will not forget it so easily."
"Be sure that you don't. As the Empress, it's my responsibility to ensure that justice is upheld. I believe that your atonement is the best way to honor the lives that you've taken, and those that have been taken from you. Those crimes may be forgiven someday, but I will not allow them to be forgotten."
Her face then softened. "But let us speak no more of that. If what you feel in your heart is true, then there is only one thing left to say: I welcome you to join our Alliance."
. . .
Night was falling by the time he reached the castle. An entire month had gone by, yet nothing had changed at all. The walls still towered over the forest, casting their shadows on the snow. El Nath's spring was heralded by slivers of green peeking out of the everfrost. The air was chilly, but not intolerably so. It nipped at his face gently, leaving a small stinging sensation on his cheeks.
He exhaled and watched his breath come out in spirals. This was Ifia's favorite time of year. There was never a moment in spring when she would remain inside. Strolling through the grounds each morning was her favorite pastime. She loved watching the grass climb out from the barrenness around it. He remembered how much it fascinated her to know how persistently the world teemed with life.
Perhaps that was why snow roses were her favorite. She had once told him what they meant. They were beautiful and translucent flowers – brittle and easily shatterable to anything but the warmth of a human hand. That day when he'd given her a snow rose, he'd gotten down on one knee to present it.
He'd known exactly what it had meant to propose with such a flower. His intent had been to bare his heart to her plainly and openly, with no opacity or restraint. He was handing her something precious and fragile. Something that would break him if it was dropped. Yet, he was giving it to her because he trusted that she would hold it warmly. What he had given her was a promise. An oath.
He could still picture that ruined garden in his mind. How every rose had lost its bloom that day. How its delicate, translucent sheen had wept itself dry in its grief. Perhaps it had known that there was no one left to mourn the bodies beneath it. Even now, the memory of that day was slipping from his fingertips.
Her face was lost to him, and he could do nothing to get it back. It was nothing less than what he deserved, he had told himself. The roses had cried themselves crimson, as if to remind him that his hands were stained with that same sorrow. But now – now it felt like he was waking from a haze. And when his feet moved this time towards the garden, it was because he was moving there with purpose.
Out of every part of the castle, this was the place which surprised him the most with how it had stayed the same. No one remained to tend to it, yet here it stood – pristine and teeming with life.
The roses had wrapped themselves around every corner of the room, from the floor, to the walls, to the broken ceiling, blooming even further past where it had caved in, which had almost been completely covered by the saturation of petals.
And in the center of the garden stood that lovely, larger-than-life likeness of Ifia herself. Carved in enchanted ice, there was no chance that it would ever melt or break. And as such, every detail had remained perfectly intact.
Yet, he couldn't bring himself to look up at her. Reflexively, he forced himself to avert his gaze from the towering figure etched in the cold before him. He had been sure that this would happen, and it frustrated him to no end. It was maddening, really, that after everything that he'd been through, after everything that they'd all done for him, he was still unable to face this one, final crucible.
He supposed that if Lara were here, she'd offer some words of encouragement. Something to make him feel worthy enough that he'd push past his feelings just to grasp the honesty within his reach. But she'd said it herself. She wasn't his savior, and this was something that he needed to do himself. This was what it meant to move forward. And so, he took a deep breath and exhaled before speaking.
"Ifia… I don't know if you are here, or if you have moved on, as I had hoped. This is the first time that I've returned to this place after… after centuries. I confess, in any other circumstance, I would not have returned at all. You see, I do not believe myself worthy of seeing you again. After your death, I did… unforgivable things. I became a killer, and I aided a monster in destroying this world. All that life that you loved – I pulled it out by the roots. I left behind nothing but ash and broken spirits. All the promises I made – I shattered them. And only when there was nothing left but the memory that I realized all that I had lost. Not simply you, or even this kingdom, but my honor. My goodness. Myself."
He kept his eyes fixed on the ground, but the words began spilling out spontaneously, as though they had been waiting impatiently all this time just to be spoken. Welling up inside him was a need to be understood by her, if no one else. He craved to be understood.
"I wished to suffer – but my dearest, it was not my wish to see you suffer alongside me. I wanted you to leave me behind – truly, that was the only desire that I allowed myself, for I believed that it was the only selfless thought left to me. I knew not that you waited for me all these centuries, and when I learned the truth, I hated myself all the more for letting you suffer in death as I'd let you suffer in life. I know now that I should have given you the peace that you desired, but the cost of that was to be rewarded by the sight of you when I should have been punished. This web - of what should be and what ought to be - has woven itself around me, and everything that I care about has been caught in it, slipping just beyond my reach."
He couldn't remember when the first tear fell from his eyes, nor could he remember when a dozen more followed. But his eyes were brimming with them, blurring his vision of the floor that he was fixated on.
"I- I know that after everything I've done to you, I have no right to say these words. I expect you to resent me. In fact, I yearn for it. But this is something that I must say because it is the truth. I've spent centuries hating myself, hurting myself, not realizing or caring how much I've hurt you because of my selfish needs. I made myself forget you, but I could not make you leave. The loss was there, festering and rotting, but I would not allow it to become part of me. I made myself an island, watching the distant shape of you across the sea. I… I cannot even remember your face anymore."
His voice finally cracked, and he found that could not keep speaking. He sank to his knees and began sobbing earnestly. And as he did, the old feelings came rushing back. He remembered sobbing just like this, holding Ifia's broken body in his arms. He remembered the grief that had overtaken him, how he had screamed into the sky, praying, begging, demanding for her to be brought back to life at once. It was all that he had wanted.
Every fiber of his being had screamed that same thought aloud, reverberating with the sheer magnitude of a grief that would have crushed the world in its grasp if that was what it would have taken to bring her back. To see her return to life as the grass sprung forth from that cold, lifeless void of white.
He sobbed as though there were an ocean bottled up inside his small body, pouring out with fervent intensity through a threadlike crack. The pressure was strangling him by the throat, letting out indecipherable noises of wounded pain, like a beast stumbling with an arrow through the chest.
He was a fleck in the heart of a void, a singularity in which all the agony of the universe was contained. It poured out of him like a cyclone, pounding savagely against anything that it could reach. It would not stop, and it would not come out fast enough. The crack in the dam was opening its mouth like a scream, spilling all the lost feelings out into the open.
He was beyond the point of return. There was nothing but hatred and guilt and regret, but there was still something else – a yearning, a desire for love. A remembrance that he was an abomination. He was appalled, he was unforgiven, he was terrified. He was a killer who had killed himself, he was only half a thing, a king without a kingdom.
He had taken it all, he had lost everything, and he was not what he was before. He was faith without form, and he was looking for something that was gone. And he knew that he wasn't to have it back, but still, he wanted it back. He wanted it all back.
"Leo… lo…"
A voice in his head. He had heard it before.
"Open… eyes…"
No, not in his head. Right in front of him.
"Leon, my love, if you can hear me… open your eyes."
He opened his eyes. A spectral figure of a beautiful, sad woman greeted him with a smile. Queen Ifia was just as magnificent in death as she had been in life. Even with a blue, pale shimmer around her, she somehow seemed more alive than the roses that wreathed the room. Von Leon's breath hitched in his throat. He remained on his hands and knees, looking up transfixed at the woman whose absence had haunted him for centuries.
"At last… at last…" she breathed, blinking back her own tears. "You can hear me. You can see me."
"Ifia… is it… really you? Is this a dream?" Von Leon whispered.
"No, my love," she smiled, her eyes moist. "This is true. It's all true."
Von Leon slowly lifted himself to his feet, unable to believe his eyes. He reached out a hand tentatively towards the apparition before him. Ifia laughed softly and reached out her own hand towards him. His hand passed through hers, sending a cold shiver down his arm. But then, they curled their fingers, interlocking their hands in one another.
"It is you…" he murmured.
"I have waited centuries for this moment…" Ifia said. "For you to look upon me as you do now. All this time, I had thought that you'd forgotten me. That you no longer loved me."
"I never stopped loving you. Never. Your memory hung over me for ages, and that shroud is how I punished myself for all my sins."
"I know, my love," Ifia said gently. "I know what has happened to you. What you did after I died. And all the time you've spent in regret."
"You… you do not… hate me?" he whispered.
"I could never hate you, Leon. I know the man you really are. You were filled with grief and betrayal. I could never condone your actions, but neither did you. And, in your own way, you sought to make things right."
"But I did not," he said immediately. "I erased my feelings for you. I turned the memory of you into a weapon against myself. When I learned that you awaited me, I chose to continue punishing myself, knowing that I would be holding myself hostage from you. I… I do not deserve your forgiveness."
"Please, love… let there be no more sadness between us. If you truly believed that, you would have not been able to see me before you."
"But it's the truth!" he insisted. "I allowed you to be killed. I allowed you to live in pain for centuries."
"And then you set me free. You gave me this – this reunion, that only you could ever give me. And now, I am complete."
"You mean…?"
"Yes. I am ready to pass into the next world. I know not what awaits me there, but I am content to remain. Until the day we see each other again."
"I… I want to stay with you."
The words came out small and timid, like he was a child reaching out his hand towards someone leaving. Someone he would miss. Someone waving farewell to him for the last time.
She smiled sadly. "I know you do, my dearest. And so do I. But this must be enough for us. At least for now."
"But this is… this is…" he began. "You've lived alone for centuries. With no one by your side. You deserve to be seen again, and heard! Will you not stay – just a moment longer? If you'd stay, I promise that I would, too. If I could, I would listen to you for eternity. No, even longer! For all the years of silence, I would see the rest of our days filled with warm conversation. I would never leave your side, I swear to it! I swear to it more than I've sworn to anything before!"
His voice choked with emotion, but still, he forced the words to pour out of him. He needed to say it. He needed to make her understand just how much emotion there was inside him. How he would do anything just for even a minute more of her time.
"…So please… stay with me, my love," he finished. "I beg of you… please don't leave."
Ifia's eyes watered, and she glided forward until she was close enough to look deeply in his eyes, raven black and filled with fear. She gently put a loving hand to his cheek, as much as she could without it passing through.
"My Leon, I love you more than life itself. Please know this – I'd give you anything if I could. I'd give you all my time, all my days. I'd give you eternity. I'd give you a lifetime filled with happiness, with children, with flowers that only ever bloom. But you know as much as I do that I have no time left to give. The Ifia you knew, the Ifia I was – she no longer exists. She died centuries ago in this garden, and what stands before you is simply an echo. An imprint of a last, dying wish, waiting to be fulfilled. And now, you've made my wish come true. Oh, please don't cry, love."
He touched his face, and was surprised to find his cheek wet with tears. He hadn't even realized that he had started crying again until she had said so. Ifia moved to wipe them away before she remembered that she couldn't. They both laughed dolefully as Von Leon wiped the back of his hand against his face.
"It's good to hear you laugh," Ifia said. "It gives me joy that you will be able to laugh again, even without me."
"I don't want to laugh without you," he said instinctively. "I don't want to be happy without you."
"But you will. And you must, if you are ever to live again."
"Perhaps I wouldn't," he said instinctively. "If it's for you, I would gladly offer my life. I can join you in the next life right now."
But even as he said the words, he knew that it was an offer he could not follow through with. And Ifia knew, too, for she merely stared reproachfully at his suggestion.
He sighed finally. "…I know. You cannot give me your time, and I cannot give you my life."
It was something that he saw clearly now. They were speaking from a mirror, and all that they were seeing was the other's reflection. She did not belong in his world, and he could not belong in hers. Not yet.
"I… I have something I must do," he explained. "Something on which I cannot renege. Not even for you."
"I know," she said gently. "But I'm happy, I truly am. I want this for you. I want you to give yourself back to the world. To make amends. To find more reasons to smile again. To stop tragedies like ours from happening to anyone else. If you have a purpose again, then I am willing to wait as long as it takes until you pass in satisfaction, so that when you leave this world, you leave no regrets behind. When I see you again, I hope that I find you with all your chapters closed. Because I await you somewhere that has no pain, for either of us."
"You… believe I will be brought there? To such a place?"
"I do. Because if I know you, then I know that once you've given yourself to a purpose, you will not rest until you've seen it through. If you truly wish to atone, to leave this world changed for the better… then there is no doubt that where you belong is where I await you."
She was starting to fade away. His eyes widened in panic, grabbing at her in desperation. This couldn't be the end, not when it had barely begun. Everything that he had been through, hadn't it been leading up to this moment? Weren't all the paths supposed to meet here?
"No, stay longer, please!" he begged insistently. "Just a moment more. I… I cannot say goodbye so soon. Not when I just got you back!"
"I was never lost to you," Ifia explained, smiling warmly. "I was here all along, every moment of every day. And even after this departure, I will be with you in fondest memory. All those moments you'll spend simply being alive, living a life worth struggling for, you'll be living it for us both. Making up for your sins, making up for all the time robbed from us – you'll make yourself complete, even without me."
"What if I cannot? What if I lose my way again? What if I forget you?" he asked desperately, grasping at the final straws still in his reach.
"If you forget, then it is your duty to remember. The duty of all those who survive. But you don't need me to remind you that, my love."
She was almost gone. And he knew that couldn't hang onto her any longer, and so he chose to hang onto those last words, the last proof to his ears that she had once lived, that she had left something behind that could still be remembered.
"You were a good king. A good knight… and the most loving husband. But you were good long before you were a good anything. And that is why I love you. Please, don't ever forget that."
"N-no, come back! Come back!"
But she was already gone. And there was no body to hold this time. He stood right where he was, as though she would return at any moment. But he knew that it was over, and even in his grief, he knew that he must accept it.
There was no need for tears, he kept telling his leaking eyes. No screams to let out, he told his trembling lips. The sadness that stained his cheeks was bittersweet. The devastation would pass. And he must not pass with it. Because she had said it herself – he had given himself to life. And this parting was not a loss.
And so, he willed himself to leave the garden and scale the steps to the tower's roof, where the sun was crowning itself atop the horizon. The rising sun had been Ifia's favorite, but this – this was his. To him, the setting sun was completion. The closing of a chapter. It meant that the day had truly happened, and that it was over now.
Ifia would always add that it was also a promise – that the sun would rise for them tomorrow. Hoping for the future was always something that had come easily to her. The sun would rise again. They would meet again in the next life. She was so certain of things that had not yet happened, as though believing in that future would will it into existence.
But he had always been sure of the past. The things that could be seen and felt could be remembered. Anticipating the future was something he had never believed in. To him, all the mysteries of the future could be gleaned from what had come to pass before.
Memories were the only things that held value, simply because they were tangible. He had never thought that they could ever be stripped of their worth. He wondered what else he had been wrong about. What else he would be wrong about again.
"My love…" he said quietly. "I wish we had more time. I need your counsel. You always knew the future better than I."
"You should give yourself more credit, my king. You led us bravely to the end."
He turned around to find the ghost of an old, bearded knight clad in armor.
"Luden…" he breathed. "You were here, too?"
"I was, my king," Luden nodded. "The curse set the rest of us free, but the queen and I… we were bound by more than just magic."
"Your dying wish," Von Leon realized.
"Indeed."
"What was it?"
"The same as it had always been, even when I fought my last battle. The safety of the king and queen to whom I had sworn my allegiance."
"And you could not pass on until you saw Ifia leave with your own eyes," he noted.
"I was unable to protect her when the castle was sieged, and it is my greatest regret. Even when her spirit wandered these walls, I could not rest in peace, knowing that she was still suffering."
"Then, now that she is free… will you pass on, too?"
"I will. But not only because of Her Majesty. Because you, too, are now at peace. All these centuries, I have seen you suffer from the Black Mage's curse. I had hoped that by breaking the curse, it would set your soul free."
A realization crossed Von Leon's mind. "The Crusaders. You brought them to me."
Luden nodded gravely. "When I learned that they were cleansing the dark energies of this place, I knew that there was a chance, if only a small one, that they may be able to lift your curse, too."
"My curse was tethered to the Black Mage. I could not die until he did."
"I learned that myself, soon enough. And so, I believed that if I could not stop Your Majesty, I could at least delay you from returning to the Black Mage's side. Even after the Silent Crusade left, others arrived in this place. Adventurers hoping to plunder the castle for riches. I sent them to you, hoping that the battles would weaken you, so that you would do no harm when he returned."
"They did little to hinder me. Stronger though the people of this world have become, they were not strong enough to face the other Commanders who had more to lose than I."
"I surmised as much, my king. Which is why I found myself surprised when she came."
And so had he. Out of every enemy that he had faced, he had never met one who had cast aside their weapons for words. Not only that, but she had even declared that she would save him: a monster who lived with ghosts.
"It seemed that she was the answer all along," Luden noted.
"To some things," Von Leon replied. "But there are still questions. One, in particular."
Suddenly, he had a thought. "Luden, there is something I wish to ask you, and I seek the truth."
"Of course, Your Majesty. If it will bring you peace before I go, I will certainly oblige."
"Our kingdom – when some of our people turned against us, they had believed me to be a traitor. That I had sided with the Black Mage. All because I had refused to side with the alliance. In the end, I see no path that could have avoided our destruction, whether it be at the hands of the alliance or the Black Mage. And in the light of this foresight, I wish to hear what you think. Should I have made a different choice?"
"Your Majesty, our kingdom was poor, and we had no way of knowing that the Black Mage sought to destroy the world. We had all assumed him to be a conqueror, not an eradicator. With everything that we knew, I believe that you made the right decision, my king."
"But if we knew that annihilation was certain, should we have gone down fighting? The question that keeps coming to mind is why our people turned on us. Was there something that they knew which had eluded us? I've chosen to take the path that I had once walked after great contemplation and cost. I will not allow myself to be led towards another loss. The destruction of our kingdom was the moment when everything had gone wrong, and it is something that I need to understand if I am to stop it from bleeding through our wounded history."
"I understand, my king. But I confess that the actions of the alliance made little sense, even to me. Our people were happy, that much I knew for certain. That time was rife with fear and uncertainty, but our kingdom had faith in its king."
"The thought had crossed my mind that it was all a trick," Von Leon confessed. "A plot by the Black Mage to lure me to his side. But the girl, Lara – she tells me that the Black Mage had no hand in it, and she is certain in her beliefs."
"Then I cannot say, my king. Regretfully, I fear the answers you seek are lost to the past."
"At my hands, no less," he noted ruefully. "Had I not wiped out the alliance, I may have learned the truth."
"Do not blame yourself, Your Majesty."
"No, Luden. I should blame myself, and so should you. I asked you for the truth, not appeasements that I don't deserve."
"Even so, Your Majesty, I believe there is nothing more to be learned from the past. Perhaps it would be best to let it lay and move forward. What happened all those years was regrettable, to be sure, but the circumstances are different for you now. You are no longer a king – you are a free man."
Von Leon shook his head. "That I cannot accept. I do not believe the answer lies in forgetting the past. Ifia, and many others, have told me that it is my duty to remember, even as I escape it. I did not understand before, but I believe that I do now. There are lessons to be learned, and until I find no more of them sifting through those memories, I must keep searching. Perhaps we may never learn the truth about the alliance, but I may still learn the truth about myself. For this, Luden, I have one more question."
"Yes, my king?"
"You have known me since I was a boy. You were my instructor in all the ways of knighthood. Everything that I learned about being a king, I learned from you. I trust your judgment, and so, I will ask you this: if I am to begin again, what should I do differently this time? What error will undo me?"
"I… I could not say, Your Majesty."
"Speak your mind. You need not hold back on my account."
"As you say, my king, but truly, I could not say."
"Luden," Von Leon said, looking straight into the knight's eyes. "I forbid you to censor yourself. If this reticence comes from fear or guilt, then rid yourself of it – you do not need it. You have served me faithfully, long after your oath has expired. If you believe that you have wronged me by aiding the Crusaders in attacking me, or failing to protect the castle, or anything else, then you are mistaken. You did nothing less than what a chief knight of the Lion King would do for his fallen liege. I wish to let you rest, but before that, this is my final order. Luden, please tell me the truth."
Luden hesitated for a moment before sighing and bowing his head.
"As you say, Your Majesty, if that is your command," he said finally. "Perhaps if there was anything, it would be that I… wished you would have relied more on others."
"In matters of state?"
"In matters of self, my king. You were a model prince, a model son, a model squire. But even from a distance, I could see your isolation. I remember watching you wander the grounds every day, making clandestine excursions from city to city. It always seemed to me as though you were not truly here with us, as though you were in some distant place where you could not see us, and we could not see you."
He remembered those days. As a prince, he had always striven to be worthy of his throne. He had known from the beginning that El Nath was a poor kingdom, and his mind had always been turned towards how best he could help his people. He had demanded nothing but excellence from himself, for which he had thrown himself into his studies and training. But he'd known from the beginning that what he'd been doing was not enough. His father and his grandfather had all experienced what he had. If he was to surpass them, he would need something more.
Wandering his kingdom had been his favorite pastime, but it was more than just that. Dressing as a commoner, he could hide in plain sight and truly see his kingdom for what it was. He was no longer Prince Leon, he was simply another faceless citizen in the masses.
To his surprise, his father had approved of his actions, seeing it as the initiative of the future heir. His father had placed great trust in him and his reputation for excellence, for which he'd been given the autonomy to act according to his own wishes – wishes that had lined with the best interest of his people.
"I wasn't lonely," Von Leon told Luden. "Or, at least, I do not believe that I was. I was simply observing my people, so that I could understand how best to help them."
"And did you find what you were looking for?"
"I found what I expected to see. Peasants clad in rags, peddlers selling their wares in the snow, thieves and swindlers and criminals of every sort. But there was something else, too. All those people on the streets were smiling. They lived meagerly, but they found happiness in modesty. They came together to protect their own, even when they knew that they were powerless to do so."
He had truly been surprised to find such joy in the cities that he wandered. The people of his kingdom had found solace in simplicity, making the most of their means and shouldering the burdens of their neighbors. He would never speak with them directly, but he would often sit in taverns or roam the streets, listening to the talk of the town.
Injustice had reigned there as much as any place, but he'd also heard stories of local heroes, vigilantes stopping petty crimes. Charities and soup kitchens that fed the homeless with the people's own food when the crown could not supply enough.
And more than anything else, he'd seen hope blossom through acts of kindness where none were expected, charity where none was given, and celebrations where none would happen.
When he was sixteen, he had traveled to one of their villages on the outskirts, where a flower festival had been held. There were few flowers that grew in El Nath, but in the springtime, this particular village at the edge of the kingdom was blessed with the bloom of a thousand flowers, for which the townspeople celebrated the coming of new life.
In the crowds, he had walked through the stalls and booths filled with food and games and merriment. Seeing his people so happy had warmed his heart considerably, but even that had paled compared to when she had approached him. A girl his age had come up to him with a frown and a garland of roses.
"Excuse me," she said. "I hope I'm not being rude, but I couldn't help but notice that you don't have any flowers with you."
"Oh…" Von Leon said awkwardly. "I… um, I was simply passing through on my way to the capital, not to take part in the festivities."
"I see. Then, at least take this before you go," Ifia said, holding out the garland. "Flowers are quite rare in this kingdom. It will bring you good fortune wherever your path may take you."
"My apologies," he said. "But I do not have the means to purchase it."
Ifia shook her head. "It's a gift. From someone who has far too many flowers, to someone who has too few."
"I am honored. Truly. But I can't accept this from you," he said immediately. "It is against my code to take something without giving back in return."
"You sound just like a knight," Ifia laughed. "There aren't many out there who think as you do."
"Are there no warriors of honor in this village?" he asked, frowning.
"There are, I would say. But I don't think they follow any sort of code, really. They just do what they feel is right. Perhaps you've experienced differently in the capital, if that's where you're from. I'd imagine you might've met more knights than I."
"Still, it seems that this place is quite prosperous, even so far out from the kingdom's heart. Is your village always like this?"
Ifia shook her head. "We have our problems, just like anywhere else. But we keep our spirits up together. It's why I love flowers, and our flower festival. It's something to look forward to while we get through the winter, and it makes me so happy to see everyone so hopeful. That's why I couldn't help but notice you walking without any flowers. There was a look on your face, like you didn't know if you belonged, or maybe it was because you just didn't know where you were going. I thought that it would put you at ease if you had this to wear, so that you wouldn't feel so out of place."
"I see. I appreciate your generosity," Von Leon said.
Ifia smiled and put the garland around Von Leon's neck. She stepped close to him and began adjusting the garland to sit neatly over his chest.
"There," she said with satisfaction. "You look very handsome now."
"Just by a string of flowers?" he asked, grinning.
"Flowers bring out the best in people. At least, that's what I like to believe. People like to say that flowers are for girls because they're fragile or pretty or dainty, but I'd bet that those people have no idea how resilient these flowers must be to rise up from the snow and shine so brightly. I don't see why something pretty can't be strong, and I don't see why something tough can't look dainty. I think if you were a knight, you'd look very dashing with those red roses around your neck. With the way that they match your hair, they'd look just like a lion's mane."
"A lion's mane? I'll have to remember that," he said, laughing. "But in any case, I am grateful. I only wish that I could repay you for your kindness."
"Seeing you smile like that was enough for me," Ifia said, giving a smile in return. "I know that the capital seldom sees flowers, so if you'd really like to repay me, then you might share the sight of those roses with others you meet there, so that they might be filled with the hope of life, too."
"Consider it done."
As he turned to leave, Ifia called after him.
"Wait! I didn't catch your name."
"I…"
The only request that his father had made of him was that he hide his identity, for his own safety. But as he looked deeply into the girl's earnest eyes, he found that it was impossible to lie to her.
"Leon."
"Ifia," she said, smiling broadly. "I wish you good fortune in your travels, Leon. I hope fate will allow us to meet again."
And as it happened, fate had little to do with it, as he had decided to return only a week later, and then the next. Springtime had passed in a lavender haze, carried on through a summer spent in secret. Six years had gone by in the blink of an eye, but when they had finally wed, it had been meant to be the start of a new chapter – their first year as the new king and queen of El Nath.
"Ifia was born a commoner, and I valued her counsel greatly. She agreed that it was better to stay out of the conflict. We were in the midst of civil war, and we had no desire to embroil ourselves in another. Not when we could barely fend off our enemies."
"I remember that time well. Outnumbered and overwhelmed… it was a wise decision for Your Majesty to enlist aid."
It was a decision that he hadn't made lightly. Their kingdom had always prided itself on being able to keep its people safe with its own power. Hiring mercenaries, to him, had been an act of weakness, as though to say that his knights were no longer as capable as they had been for ages, since the time of his forefathers – the First People of the snowfield.
But the mercenary captain, Ryude, had been a man of honor, in spite of being a sellsword, and he had commanded his unit with that same discipline. And now that he thought about it, it seemed that everywhere around him, he had been surrounded by that same level of honor. Ifia, Luden, Ryude, all the knights, all his people whom he'd met in his travels – they had all risen up to every occasion demanded of them, no matter the circumstances.
"Luden... was there something that we overlooked?"
"What do you mean, Your Majesty?"
"Our people – did they see us as we saw them? Did they think that we had honor?"
"Of course, my king. Our people believed in us to protect them. By every account that I've heard, they saw Your Majesty as a beacon of courage. They drew their inspiration from that fearlessness. It was what gave them their resilience in the face of our wars."
Von Leon nodded gravely. Luden took in his expression and opened his mouth with uncertainty.
"Was that… not what you expected to hear, my king?"
"The words themselves carry no surprise. But to hear it, with what I've come to understand… it means that I may finally have seen the truth."
"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I don't understand."
"All that time, all those years I spent watching them… I lived amongst them to understand their struggles. The people of the snowfield take care of their own – that was the heart of their beliefs. And it was on that basis that I made my decision."
"Your Majesty, I agreed with you then, and I agree with you now. The Black Mage was not an enemy that we could have defeated. Without the foresight of what the alliance would do, choosing to avoid provocation was the soundest way to avoid a war that would have slaughtered us all."
"Indeed. We acted to save our people because our duty was to serve them. But it is as you said: their king, this castle – it was a symbol of something more. I cannot say with certainty, but perhaps it was that they had expected us to fight. That they had seen it as a fight for survival. A fight to avoid annihilation. Do you not remember how even amongst our knights, there had been many who had wished to join the fight?"
"I remember it well. Some had believed it was our duty to stop any threat to our world. Others had believed that a swift and decisive offense was the best way to defend the kingdom. To both, I had said that our priority was to protect our kingdom, at every cost. To save as many of our own as possible."
"And, perhaps, that may have been why they turned on us. In choosing not to fight, we asked them to give up their beliefs. To hide from the enemy, praying that he finds us so weak that we are beneath his notice."
"What we did kept them all alive," Luden protested. "Surely you don't believe that we were mistaken?"
"No, we were not mistaken," Von Leon replied. "Nor could anything justify their massacre. I cannot say whether this is what truly happened. Even now, some aspects elude me. I do not know why our people believed that we had sided with the Black Mage, nor do I know why their target was the castle, and not me. I do not believe that I will ever understand the truth of what happened that night. But even so, I wish to try."
He thought about his people. The crowd of faces he'd committed to memory – smiling, resilient, unyielding to every storm. They had looked at him and seen a king. And then they'd seen something more. They must have seen the promise on his lips – on the lips of all the kings who had come before. It was what bound them together, after all.
He supposed that every crowd needed its champion. A leader in whom they could place their beliefs, their hopes, and their deepest desires. Someone who had been given power, and the will to use it. To carve out a future worth having. It was why he had fought to keep them all alive. Why he had never expected that it had all amounted to nothing in the end.
Even now, he couldn't decide how to feel about everything that had happened. He had no idea which of them had marched with the alliance, which of them had brought ruin to his halls. Perhaps he might have recognized some if he had been there. Perhaps he could have changed their minds before they had made up his.
It was a strange sensation to know that the people whose happiness he would have died for were the ones who had set fire to his world. When it had happened, he had only felt maimed by it, and all that he had wanted was to carve his pain onto them. There had been nothing to understand, only to destroy.
But it was over now – he wanted it to be over. And just as Lara had said, and Damien, moving forward meant taking only that which he needed, and letting go of everything else. And in the murky haze of that night, there was something that he could keep with him. A consequence and a final reminder of what it meant to be bound by an ideal.
He thought about Lara. Her people believed in her, just as his people had once believed in him. A hero with a golden heart. A girl who could kill a god. They had depended on her more than they could possibly know, heralded her as their savior, and made themselves forget that they were asking a child to lead them through the darkness.
And in spite of everything, she had won their war for them, and now, she was fighting another, even as the weight of the world had crushed itself upon her. He wondered what she would have done in his place. If the decision had been hers to fight or flee, would she have known what was in his people's hearts? And, if she had chosen like him, would they have turned on her, too?
But he supposed it never truly mattered. What he should have done, what he could have done – in the end, he was just a man, and she was just a girl. They could not choose what they were to others, only what they chose to be. Perhaps the decision was never consequential. And perhaps that was the lesson.
"I chose to give my people their best chance of survival," Von Leon said finally. "I will not regret my decision. Not when it was true. If they betrayed me because they believed I failed them, I will not shoulder the weight of their choices, but I will still hold the weight of mine. In the end, there is nothing that can undo me except myself."
"Then, are you satisfied, my king?" Luden asked hesitantly.
"Do not mistake me – I will never be satisfied knowing that I only hold fragments of my own story. No matter how much I wish to move forward, these questions with no answers will hound me until the day I die. But there are no more reasons to dwell on what can never be discovered. Even if nothing that I uncovered is true, there was still something gained from it all: a sign."
"A sign?"
"A reminder. I have learned everything I can from the past. And now, it is time to let it go."
"You… truly mean it, my king?" Luden asked, both surprised and glad.
"I do," Von Leon said, smiling slightly. "You have served me faithfully, Luden – more than any knight could ever be expected to serve. You have honored this kingdom and its people, in life and in death, and I am truly sorry for everything that I have put you through. I only hope that you may find rest in the afterlife, and that you find the peace that you deserve."
Luden bowed his head. "Then, my king, this is farewell."
But as Luden began fading away, Von Leon felt an ache in his chest. Luden had been like a father to him, and watching him leave was painful in a different sort of way. He was watching the last remnant of his past slip right out of his hands. When Luden disappeared, it would mean more than simply having no family. It meant that there was no one left to remember him. No one who shared his memories of a past that would stop existing as soon as he did.
He tried to keep his composure as Luden disappeared. But then, he felt the hot tears falling down his cheeks, and through his blurry vision, he saw Luden smile and move his lips. But his ghost had already faded away before the sound could carry. One more secret of the past that he would never uncover.
It didn't feel fair anymore, that this was what it meant to let go of the past. All these months, he'd been teaching himself to stop holding it like a weapon, and it was only when he had finally let it go that he'd seen that there was still a part of it worth holding onto.
But there was nothing left of it to touch, only memories that he could faintly see behind glass. He couldn't help but wonder what there was that he could've done just to have a bit more time.
But you know what to do now, don't you?
It was strange. The voice in his head was only his own this time. But it was right. He was devastated, but he knew that he wasn't broken. The sadness that lingered was bittersweet, not crushing. He didn't understand it, but still, he could feel the cool air blowing over the ache. It meant that the wound was starting to heal. And the scar that it would leave was a sign, too – it meant that the loss, far from fading, had become a part of him.
Perhaps it was enough if he could know peace. The hate hadn't gone away completely, and he didn't think it ever would. The wound might reopen someday, and there was nothing that he could do about it. For every lesson that he'd learn, there was one that he'd forget when it mattered. There would be a day when the past would dig its claws right where he'd buried it, and it would find him still in sorrow. And undoubtedly, he would again start to miss what he had lost when the pain returned.
But there were other words left to hear. Other words left to utter. There were battles still left in him, sitting between the lines of his story. And there were battles long finished that would stalk his every step, claim every memory he would make, paint them in all his mistakes. And those – those he could not, and should not, escape. Those were his duty to remember as one who had survived.
But what the dead had left behind was not what stood before him. Their words were not the last, but the first of many. They were words that he could trace softly with his finger, and every stroke of ink was proof of the ones who had written them. And in their handwriting, he could hear their voices, their will, their feelings. A reminder that there was truth in spades of multitudes.
And there was Lara, a girl who smiled like the sun. A girl who had shown him the way in the dark, even as she had struggled to stand. More than anything else, he owed it to her to keep moving forward, just as much as he owed it to himself and to everyone else. He would not forget his sins, and he would not forget the faith of those who would still stand by him.
There was a future now, and it was within his reach. The sun would rise tomorrow. And this time – he would believe in it.