I was supposed to write fluff. Ah... ahahahhaa. Um. Yes.
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Varice stands alone and cold and unhappy in the wreckage of the imperial palace. Her feet are sore from stepping on the rubble in unsuitable shoes (and why should they be suitable? When should she ever need shoes for wandering about a ruin? How would she know to prepare for this. Blurry vision takes her by surprise; she reaches up to her eye and touches one corner with a finger, draws it away, studies it. When had she started crying? Of course, the tears are all over her face; she can hear herself whimper softly as she searches frantically for a clean square of clothing to wipe it dry.
A hand stretches out in front of her bowed head, offering a handkerchief. His hand.
"No", she hisses. "No, no, no, no, no."
"Varice", he says.
"No", she reiterates. "You're dead. I watched you die."
"I'm sorry", he says. Means it. She looks up at him more closely – he looks pained, anxious. And very much alive. Again. He lifts her chin up and dabs gently at her face.
"Arram?" she asks.
His eyes flick to hers, pausing in his task. "Will you be alright here on your own for a while?"
She pulls his hands down. "You're leaving?" Again?
"I have to help my student. She's gone after Ozorne by herself."
"Hardly by herself – she's got a small army of undead dinosaur backing her up."
"You saw her? Which way did she go?"
Was he always so clueless? "Follow the trail of rampant destruction", she points. He fairly leaps in that direction. She's losing him.
"Arram", she calls. He turns back. "I can't keep waiting for you. If you leave me now it will be for the last time." She regrets the ultimatum as soon as it's out of her mouth. It seems he does too. He gives her one long, unhappy look before running off.
Minutes later a set of palace guards find her to help her off to relative safety. "Lady", the leader says. "Are you hurt? Can you walk?"
She looks at him without seeing him and smiles. "I'm fine, thank you Lieutenant…?"
"Lieutenant Ebeid, Lady", he says, not without some respect. "We need to keep moving – is there anyone else around here?" They walk and talk with military efficiency.
Left unseen in the rubble is a small square of slightly damp white cloth, decorated only with the monogram, N.S.
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What to say... This is the end of something that may get written - or the beginning of something that may get written backwards (timewise). Or just it's own thing. We shall have to see. --Sally