I started out with "Viva la Gloria" and plans for a triumphant sort of picture. I ended up with a drawing of Wyldon against a tree with an arrow sticking out of his chest, and Kel doing her level best to keep him alive - and failing. This story came out of that. Title obviously comes from Green Day's song.
Wake Me Up When September Ends
"Kel? A messenger from Frasrlund for you."
A strained smile. "Thanks Neal. Send him in."
Her friend nods and disappears, expressionless. He won't say anything about the bottle on her desk, even though she knows he'd love to. He knows that it's the only thing that can get her through the day, and sometimes the night. Kel glances at the calendar hanging on the wall. September first. She grits her teeth against the tears and turns it into a smile as the courier enters.
"It's a war, Mindelan. People die in war."
She can't keep the tears from streaming down her face, and she doesn't much care. "I know, sir," she whispers, voice shaking uncontrollably. "But not you. You're a commander, a hero. You're supposed to live forever." The words sound foolish, and they both know it, but he just smiles slightly as if he doesn't feel the arrow shaft that is rammed through his chest and into his heart.
"Just hold on," she says, carefully unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it aside. The arrow had punched straight through his leather jerkin – she cut that away with her knife, gritting her teeth against the claws that gnawed at her heart. "The healers will be here soon."
He catches her hand and presses it tightly. "It's too late for healers, Keladry." He coughs, and a trickle of red appears at the corner of his mouth.
"Thank you," she says. The message is delivered, the papers unfolded and read, the reply composed already in her head. "Go ahead to the dining hall and get some food in you. You can take my reply tomorrow after you've rested."
The man bows jerkily, unaccustomed to paying respects to a lady knight, and leaves.
"No, it's not –"
"Mindelan. You know it as well as I do. Weeping and denying it won't change it." His hard voice softens, and his eyes flutter shut as he adds, "It's my time. Let the Black God pass, Keladry."
Looking over her shoulder, she can see a tall figure swathed in shadows. A cloak hides his form, a hood his face, but twin pinpoints of light shine out at her. Mist creeps low upon the ground. In spite of herself, Kel feels at peace.
The great head nods at her.
Kel breaths deeply. Mindelan isn't the same. The war is over, though it feels as though it continues on without her. Her family welcomes her with open arms – she is a hero, and deserves much honor. But nothing is quite the same. The stone castle is not the rough wooden walls of New Hope; the paved floors are not the packed dirt she knows so well. She roams the keep for a few hours, but eventually returns to her room. When a servant comes to announce dinner, she feigns sleep.
Later, Lady Ilane lets herself in, and finds her daughter sitting on the floor, knees drawn to her chest, rocking on her heels like a child.
"Kel? Are you all right?"
"Sir…"
"It's all right, Kel. I'm ready."
He's never called her just Kel before, and it moves her. Leaning in, she places a kiss on his forehead, clasping his fingers tightly before letting go.
"Safe journey, my lord," she whispers. She can think of nothing else to say.
The Black God skirts her huddled figure, and stoops to take Wyldon's hand. Kel watches, wide-eyed and dry-throated, as Wyldon's spirit gets to his feet, leaving behind a withered shell. This wraith is lively, spritely even, with a full head of hair and no scars to be found. The lines once carved upon his face have gone. He is young again.
"Farewell." His lips don't move, but it's his voice sighing through her mind. His dark eyes, so familiar, twinkle with silent laughter one last time, and then they are gone.
The young woman starts, as though she hadn't heard her mother come in. She says nothing, and eventually Ilane sits beside her.
"Do you want to talk, sweetheart?"
Kel shakes her head, chin wobbling dangerously. Her throat is so tight she can barely speak. "Can you do me a favor?"
"Of course."
Somehow, she stands. With cold fingers she strips to her shirt and loincloth, and climbs into bed. Ilane moves to tuck her in, and brings the blankets high around Kel's chin. "I just want to sleep." She closes her eyes, and turns her face into the pillow as the tears finally leak from her eyes. "Wake me up when September ends."