Rose ran from tree to tree, ducking under branches, scrabbling over roots. She paused, leaning against one especially thick pine. Catching her breath, she grabbed hold of the lowest branch, swung herself up so she perched on it, her delicate bare feet gripping the wood. She scaled the rest of the mighty evergreen quickly. She had to get away from there, and the only place left for her was the sky. That much remained free and untainted for her. Reaching the top most branches, Rose looked out. There was nowhere else to go but the open air. There was nothing on the ground for her, no family, no friends. No love waited for her to return to his arms. No one would care if she made it back home tonight, or tomorrow, or the day after. All she saw in the future was emptiness. Bleak, devoid of life. She could not choose that, so she didn't. She simply let go, pushing herself off of the tree top. For a moment she flew, and nothing could touch her but the wind and the sun. The moment passed, and she plummeted towards the hard ground.
Supposed friends and family gathered to see the great warrior buried, giving her over to death. She had fallen from the sky, like an angel with broken wings. But God would have saved one of his angels, he could not just let them fall could he? Maybe he did though, no one knew. No one wanted to know. Mourners wept, as they paused by her casket, its open lid showing the lifeless face of the best guardian to ever grace the planet. Tears streaked down their faces, pouring from their eyes. The only one who didn't cry was a tall, shadowy figure in the back. His heart had been ripped out, and now it lay before him covered in her funeral shrouds. She had stolen it, from the first moment he saw her. He just didn't realize it for the longest time. Seeing her again, even in death, made him remember. Not the bad memories for once, but the ones full of love. For her, always for her, his heart would beat- even though hers no longer did. The space that once held his heart filled with such a bitter sweetness, he could almost taste it. The way she would smile at him, making his heart stop beating for a second. The way she laughed, the way she always put others' needs and wants over her own. Her hair, the way it looked in the sunlight, like the most precious thing on earth. Even the way she appeared when she was angry with him, filled him with such happiness. The bitterness that marred his joy did not come from the fact that she could never love him again, especially not after his harsh, untrue words of rejection. It came from the fact that she would never do anything again.
Guardians don't get to find rest in the ground. The Moroi society doesn't give them that chance. They are just shadows. Rose's sacrifice, throwing away any normal life she could have had for the living vampires; vampires who would never thank her, or even notice her. Maybe it was better that her body would become ashes, to be scattered on the wind. She was always restless, always fidgeting, always moving. Always fighting, always loving. He remembered telling her that she would never be able to live a peaceful life. She couldn't stay still long enough without something to do, something to fight. But there was finality with the Burning. She was gone, as would everyone else in this world be in a few years. What were they compared to someone like her? They would only ever amount to dust in the wind, leaving behind only a name. Rose left behind her legacy, but even that will be forgotten eventually. She would fade; the only marks she left on the world would be overshadowed, lost in the endless stream of time. Still, knowing is very different than accepting, and it was with a heavy, final sound that reverberated in the man's heart when the steel door closed after her.
He stood above the little patch of dirt that is solely hers, though her body did not rest there. It seemed fitting that in death she had finally gotten something that was just hers. In life she had shared so much with everyone else, her strength, her courage, her mind, even her sanity. The thing she always seemed to give though was her love. She had chosen death over immortality, over losing that ability. Jumped to avoid being turned into one of the undead. There was a cure though, she had found it and turned thousands back into their living counterparts. She could have been saved, and she had known it. He would never know if she did it to escape the insanity that was clawing its way into her mind and confidence, or if she did it to ensure that she could not add any more darkness to her already blackened soul. He would not say it out loud, or even acknowledge it, but in the back of his head, the man knew that she had flown to her death, to escape from the life that was suffocating both of them. She was braver them him. He didn't have the strength to let go. Or he did, just not when it mattered. He had given up on her, when he should have given up on everything but her. Finally, the tears start to trickle down his face, dripping on the little space that marked her grave, where her gravestone lay. The black marble was engraved:
Rosemarie Hathaway
Devoted guardian, best friend, loyal companion
She shall live enternal, for Death cannot hold her.
Normally, guardians don't get to find rest in the ground. Rose didn't. Her ashes were long gone into the wind. But she still got something to remember her by- even though no one who meet her could ever forget such a stunning woman. Bending down, the man reached out and traced the words, before moving on to touch the single engraved rose, which wound its way around a sword stuck in the earth. The three molija marks and battle star that were engraved on the sword represented the uncountable numbers of Strigoi she had killed. The Russian word for Savior and Storm were carved into the hilt's handles, showing the world that this girl was the most feared Strigoi hunter in the world- for she saved their souls, restored them to their bodies, and made them remember how to live again. She had become what the undead whispered about in fear and almost awe. The Savior would come, they said, and when she does she heralds a storm that you won't survive. Though the victims of Rose's lightning quick actions did not want to return to their lives, they always thanked her in the end. What Lissa had done didn't even hold a candle to this- restoring the soul isn't enough, he was living proof. Rose had found a way to bring them back and made them realize that they weren't the evil ones- that was the demon that had possessed their bodies. Even in death, people spoke her name with awe. Tears burned in the man's eyes, and his own sobs filled his ears so that when he sank to the ground, he didn't even notice the heap of a dead, limp body of a bloodless human five feet away. He didn't notice the glowing eyes surrounded in a ring of red either. Or maybe he did. Maybe he just didn't care anymore. Maybe it was his time to fly.