The Ilian Woman
The woman shivered in the cold as she stood in front of her husband's grave stone.
"They should have buried me with him." She said bitterly.
She was wearing the only clothing she had left. Even that was worn and ragged. She wiped the freshly fallen snow off to see his name. Fred Withers. She looked to the marker beside his. Jaena Withers.
They didn't even give her a body when their daughter died. She was said to have fallen on a suicide mission.
That girl never did know when to give up. That was her father in her. Never giving up didn't matter though because in the end death always wins in the game of life.
She clutched at her hood as the wind picked up. It went right through her clothes and skin making her bones shiver.
"Bring back the sun. We need its warmth."
She made her way through the poor village. No one would look her in the eye as she passed. She couldn't blame them. They knew she would die soon and she knew that they couldn't spare any food. They themselves were starving.
Just the other day another child died of starvation. The villagers were dropping like flies. They needed a miracle.
She opened the door to her empty home. She traded all she owned for food or wood. There was no one to take care of her anymore. She put the last log in the fireplace and started a fire. It took all her energy to start it so she just lay down beside it.
The warmth revitalized her spirits for only a moment.
Memories of long ago flashed in her mind: her first kiss, her wedding, holding Jaena for the first time, riding her Pegasus through the clouds, teaching Jaena how to ride.
They were such happy memories that she began to sob. Tears of joy ran down her gaunt cheeks. She cried until there were no more tears left. Her eyes became heavy and she closed them knowing she would soon see her Fred and Jaena again. Maybe she would even see the two babies she lost. A smile formed before she drifted off into sleep never to wake again.
