Disclaimer: I don't own Code Lyoko. I do own the story idea.

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Chapter 2: The Rings and a Letter

A cool gust of wind blew past Aelita as the door swung open, as though the whole room was breathing a sigh of relief. She shivered, wrapping her arms tightly around her body, scanning the room quietly.

The walls were faded with age and streaked with dirt and grime, making it nearly impossible to guess their original color. Some of the wallpaper was beginning to peel off. The windows were cracked, sending jagged sunbeams across the dark floor and messy bed. Dust particles floated silently in the air. Cobwebs looped their way easily through the dark corners of the room, undisturbed for years.

Cautiously, Aelita took her first step into the room. Dust rose in a fine cloud beneath her feet as she made her way to the bed, leaving tracks on the dark, dust-coated carpet. Old photographs stood on the dresser, cracked and faded with age; gently, she rested her fingers against the pictures.

Memories surged; memories of warm summer days, laughter. Memories of crawling into bed with Mommy and Daddy whenever a storm came. Memories of her mother in this same bed as she grew sicker and sicker, as her color faded and her voice weakened to a whisper, and yet her eyes still glowed with love and laughter.

Aelita's throat clogged and she closed her eyes, fighting back hot tears.

Mommy…

She steeled herself. She had known that coming into this room would hurt, but it had to be done. If she was lucky, maybe she could find something that wasn't to far gone and take it back to her room. Aelita opened her eyes, feeling somewhat reassured.

She knew right off the bat that there was no chance of saving the photographs; they were all filmed over by a solid sheet of dust, faded and cracked with age. Cleaning them, Aelita knew, would be nearly impossible. Regretfully, she pulled her hand away from the pictures and continued looking.

There wasn't much in the room; Aelita couldn't quite recall if it had always been that way, or if had been changed after her mother died. She had been young, and the line had blurred much too easily for her to clearly recall anything.

There wasn't much else save the photographs, and Aelita knew she couldn't take them with her; with a soft sigh of regret, she started back to the door. Secretly, she'd been hoping she'd find something…

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a glint of metal.

Confused, she stopped, looking back. What…?

The sunlight darkened for a moment as a cloud passed over the sky, then brightened. She saw the flash again. Frowning, she narrowed her eyes, slowly scanning the room.

That was when she saw the small corner of a metal box peeking out from under the bed.

"What in the world?" Confused, Aelita made her way back across the room, getting on her knees. Gently she gripped the corner and tugged it free, coughing as dust flared into the air from the disturbance. She waved her hand to clear the air before looking down.

It was a metal box, small in shape, with a single lock on it that could be easily flipped open. Beneath the dust it was impossible to tell what color it had been, and the silver lock was chipped slightly. Aelita gently ran her fingers over the lock as a dozen thoughts flashed in her head.

Jeremie had told her that people sometimes used locks to protect something that was precious to them. Was it possible that something was in this box, something that had been kept locked away and safe as time passed? The thought filled Aelita with hope. Maybe she'd have something to bring back to her room after all.

Gently, Aelita slid her finger beneath the lock and flipped the latch; it gave a small creak as the latch slid free and tumbled to the ground, but the lid lifted open without hassle. Aelita gripped the lid and opened it the rest of the way.

Two wedding rings—she recognized them from pictures she'd found on the internet—lay on a small satin pillow in the box, each connected to a silver chain. The chains were looped together at the ends, perhaps with the intention that anyone wishing to steal them wouldn't be able to separate them without causing the chains to snap. Carefully, Aelita untangled the chains, holding one up to the light.

The ring might have been pale gold at one time, but years of darkness had darkened them both to an almost bronze gold color. Both rings carried small scars.

Aelita knew instantly who the rings had belonged to.

A sharp, sweet ache bloomed in her chest as she gently retrieved the other ring. She could take them back, she thought. She could find somewhere safe in her room and keep them there. The rings were all she had left of her parents…

She ran her fingers over the pillow, checking to make sure there was nothing else she had missed; a finger grazed paper. She jerked her hand back in surprise, gaped for a moment, then tugged it free.

The paper was folded neatly and had been tucked beneath the pillow; Aelita's discovery of the rings had stirred it from its resting place. The paper was wrinkled and faded with age. Gently setting the rings aside, Aelita unfolded the paper.

My dearest Lita,

Aelita's heart flew into her throat. She recognized the words. She recognized the handwriting, the gentle sloping cursive. She recognized the nickname. "Mom," she choked out. Her mother had written this letter. She inhaled deeply and tried reading again.

My dearest Lita,

By the time you have this letter and are reading it, I will be dead. Don't grieve for me, sweetie—I have lived a good life. Not a long life, but length doesn't matter when I've had everything I ever wanted. You're still so young, Lita. So innocent. I am sorry that when you are a beautiful, grown young woman, I will not be there to see you for myself.

I'm sick, Lita. Perhaps you know that, in your own way. I am getting weaker every day, and I know I won't be alive long. I love you, and your father, so much honey. But my time here is almost up.

If you are reading this, chances are your father has given you our wedding rings. We gave them to each other when we were eighteen, young and fresh out of college. Even then, Lita, we knew we loved each other. Nothing else mattered. Your father and I always wore our rings around our necks instead of on our fingers—that way, we would be close to each other's hearts.

You are still young, Lita, but I know one day you will love as your father and I have loved. I wish I could meet the lucky young man, but I'll have to be content knowing that you love him when you do find him. These rings, my angel, are for you—for you and for him, for you both to wear as your father and I once did. It is my final gift to you, a gift your father will give to you when he feels you are ready.

There is no such thing as true love, darling. Oh, I know… what do I mean by that? It is simple, really. There isn't "true" love, or "forever" love, or even "everlasting" love. In my life, I have learned that there is only love… love itself, unbound and free. Love is made when you meet that special someone, Lita. "Forever", "true", and "everlasting" is up to you. But it all starts with love.

I give you these rings, sweetie, knowing that you will give one to someone when you feel the time is right. I only hope whoever your chosen one is, he makes you happy… that is all I want for you, Lita, the one thing I want reassurance for, that you are happy, and that he will love you as much as you love him.

My strength is fading quickly. I can't write much more.

Love, Lita. Love with all your heart. Don't hold anything back, because that only brings pain. Love totally and completely, much like you do now, my angel. I want you to be happy, and knowing that you will someday love like this fills me with peace.

And remember this, Lita. No matter where you are, I will always be with you. Even if you can't see me.

Love,

Mommy

Aelita's hands trembled as she lowered the letter. Tears streamed freely and silently down her cheeks like twin rivers. She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, muffling a sob. She refolded the letter and slipped it into her pocket, then retrieved the two rings.

In her hands they were warm, and through her blurred vision they shone a soft gold, like twin beacons of hope.

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Yeah... my attempt at an emotional scene...

Read and review, please!