Yesterday was Rememberance Day. This is in honour of those that have given so much, only to be forgotten on every day but November 11th.
Every year, she came back to this place. No one came with her anymore. Still, she always came back.
It was cold. It was windy. There was snow in her eyes and her clothes were soaked. She always got sick after this trip.
She still made it, year after year.
This was where Jupiter died for the first time. All of them died that day. All of them died near here.
There was no marker. She didn't need one.
This was where she learned of the cost of doing right. This was where she learned that fairy tales aren't real. This was where she learned about death.
This was where she learned about life.
So every year she came back, remembering people that had died. Remembering people who had fought.
The terrible cost of fighting was not something she would let herself forget.
Nor was the cost of freedom.
Every year, she came here on this day.
Every year, she remembered.