Denouement
The summit of Da Zhao. He has found his way here after a sojourn in the far West which has turned into a much longer stay than he'd intended. As he sits at the mountain's carved edge, watching the sun go down, he hears her quiet footsteps as she approaches. He doesn't turn to look. She sits down next to him, takes his hand, and rests her head on his shoulder. He smiles. A rare occurrence, but there's something about her presence which makes it easier. Easier for him to be himself. To let go of the past, without forgetting.
And there they are, the White Rose and the Wolf. They find themselves amused by these childish appellations, and yet they can't help but feel a certain fondness for them, all the same.
They sit together in silence, watching as the sunset paints the Wutai countryside a deep crimson hue. The sight, breathtaking as it is, would not be the same were they not enjoying it together.
It's tradition, they know, for couples to exchange a certain three words on occasions such as this one. But neither of them cares much for tradition, and doing so would merely be stating the obvious.
As they look to the far horizon, he realizes that he's not so much forgetting the past as reflecting upon it. The hardships they've faced, the struggles, the sacrifices. Given all they've been through together, it would not be amiss for them to regard themselves as the playthings of fate, but all of these experiences have shaped them, and led them to this moment. Perhaps, he thinks, all this caprice is not without meaning, after all.
Whatever the case, they are content to withdraw from the world for some time, until it needs them again. He hopes it will be a while.
She looks up, whispers something into his ear. He smiles again.
"Okay... let's go home."
So saying, they rise up to their feet, and begin the long trek back to the village below, pacing the dusty road together, hand in hand, as the last rays of the sun vanish beneath the horizon.
