No. River thought to herself as she knelt next to her love's body. Everything about him was a miracle. The way he moved, the way he cared. The way he knew and learned and loved. His soul was a miricle.
River closed her eyes and for a moment she was back with him, back when they were standing on the edge of the firestone cliffs of Eld, and he had been silent. For one moment, after talking non stop about the formation and history of the cliffs, he had fallen quiet, closing his eyes, just feeling the edge of the cliff below him. River had watched him, suddenly struck by how beautiful he was. His hair blew in dark strands over his forehead as the golden light painted his features, his jaw, his cheek and brow bones, his throat. There was a small smile on his face and his lips parted slightly as he inhaled the sweet air deeply, his chest rising gently with the flow of life into his body.
They were laying under the meteor showers of Jeyond, crystals molecule thin of pure star fire falling around their still bodies and again she watched him, watched the wide smile that lit his features, watching the stars cascade into the emerald green pools of his eyes. Those old, old eyes that still saw the universe with the awe of a child.
They were running for their lives through the halls of the roal palace of Babalyon, and even though they could die, it only took a glance at his face to tell her that he had never felt so alive. His eyes sparkled with excitement and he laughed out loud as he put on another burst of speed, grabbing her hand firmly in his own as they ran from time and fate and the rules that held everyone else.
And now he lay still. He wasn't sleeping. He wasn't resting. And he wasn't coming back to her. The pain in her heart was almost too much for her to bear, so she shut it away. She swallowed the agony in her soul and took control.
She was the one who lay his body in the boat, gently arranging him so that he would find sleep with his people, so that he would be sent off the same way every one of his ancestors had been.
She was the one who poured the gasoline around the boat and set the match, watching as the flames lept up to caress his final form, so similar and so different to the flames of regeneration that had failed to save him for the last time.
She was the one who allowed a single tear to streak down her face when no one was looking and her soul died with him.