Police Plaza, VR Simulation Room
The sound of gunshots and laser blasts filled the air with a deafening chaos that would shake any normal person's senses, and they were answered by the distinct report of a neutrino service pistol. Bursts of blue energy shot through the embattled air, contending against the flash of muzzles and the crimson flare of crude lasers, and all in all resulting in a crossfire that seemed to have no end. Through this madness Corporal Holly Short flew, firing swiftly and yet accurately, striking her enemies with devastating shots that sent them to the ground in an instant. Their shots flew all around her, and she avoided them by ducking behind a concrete barrier, which was subsequently riddled with bullet holes that cast fragments through the air. She controlled her breathing, kept her weapon at the ready, and used all of her senses to determine her opponents' moves. All the while she kept track of the score.
Ninety seconds…Fifty targets…
With a burst of adrenaline she aimed over the barrier, and then fired into several foes, who all fell backwards with cries and throes, some spraying their weapons erratically while others simply dropped like ragdolls. The enemies, which were actually holographic, were a variety of fairy species, though all similarly armed to the teeth and skilled enough to fight. They set upon her with realistic behavior, coordinated with each other, and even yelled colorful curses at her in the process. This made it even more satisfying to put a neutrino shot into their chests, like she just did.
Eighty, forty-six…
Bullets suddenly tore away most of the concrete barrier, showering her with holographic fragments—her VR suit made it so that they felt like it too. She gritted her teeth, thought quickly, and fired a burst into a trio of hostiles that had been flanking her position. They fell, and as they did she rushed over them, using the gap in their forces to reach a better vantage point. It was an urban setting, meaning that everyone had a lot of cover, not just her. They fired from the rooftops, from the windows and doors, and everywhere else imaginable, and by her quickness of thought and swiftness of action she never got struck, not once, and always hit her target. Sliding to a halt behind a dilapidated vehicle, Holly upped the setting on her neutrino and ensured proper breath control. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears, and her whole body was afire with the sensation of adrenaline and fierce determination. Sweat dripped down her brow, simulated stench assaulted her nostrils, and the sounds harassed her endlessly, just like the day before, when she had been in a real gunfight. She remembered it well, especially everything she had done wrong. Having brushed so close with death that day, she was determined to improve. She had to get better, no matter what, because sooner or later she would be in an even worse situation without any of the luck she had had before. She refused to meet her end like that.
Again she engaged the enemy, moving steadily through the street and watching every angle she could, all the while shooting hostiles while at the same time sparing the civilians that popped up unexpectedly. When a laser bolt nearly hit her in the face, she threw herself to the ground while firing, knocking down three enemies in rapid succession.
Twenty, thirteen…
A goblin wielding a human shotgun burst out of a door behind her, grinning with convincing malice. Holly rolled to the side, dodging a blast of double-odd buckshot, and then swept the legs out from under the goblin. Up she went as he fell, and she subsequently shot him in the upper chest, knocking him out. Another group came at her, this time more prudently, but she bested them by vaulting over a car and right into their midst, surprising them with a withering burst of neutrino fire and a very intimidating roar. Their reaction, as realistic as everything else, made Holly grin a little, though she kept her mind on the mission.
Ten seconds…
The remaining enemies were all around her, and they all attacked at once. Bullets flew, lasers glowed, and neutrinos flashed, culminating with a clash that had everything descend into madness. Exactly ten seconds later there came a loud beep from overhead, followed by a flicker throughout the simulated street. Unconscious fairies were everywhere, along with smoke, bullet holes, and burns, looking like a warzone. In the middle of it stood Holly, untouched by it all, holding her neutrino readily and scanning the battlefield around her, not once losing her focus. Then, all of the sudden, it all disappeared, leaving her alone in a vast, empty chamber. With an exhilarated smile Holly holstered her neutrino and flipped up her VR visor, and upon doing that she spun about to look at the large window on one end of the room. She made a sign with her right hand and grinned confidently. "All clear!"
"Another perfect score," an enthusiastic voice replied from the overhead speakers. "And a new record, naturally."
Holly proceeded to the door that had opened beside the window, leaving the simulation chamber and entering the control center. There she was met by the eccentric owner of that voice, her good friend and veritable partner in crime, Foaly. Dressed in his lab coat and cradling a datapad, he looked the part for an LEP technical officer, yet the grin on his face and the mischievous glint in his eyes made it evident that, despite his position, he was a bit of a loose cannon—just like Holly.
"To think that you can pull this off after getting no sleep and arriving five hours early," the centaur said. "Most of the officers I know wouldn't be able to properly point a neutrino at this time, let alone obliterate their personal records for the thirtieth time consecutively in two months."
The need to train was her official reason for being there. But beneath that, it was simply because she had nowhere else to go that was better. She had gotten home late the night before, and despite being weary from a long day she had been incapable of getting any sleep. It was one of those odd nights when, despite every desire to rest, the mind and the body would not cooperate. Throughout the night she had been set upon by an ominous dread, a feeling that something terrible was happening, somewhere to someone, and eventually she had given up completely. In a rotten mood by then, she had donned her uniform and made her way to Police Plaza, roughly five hours early for her shift. Naturally, with all that spare time, she figured she'd blow off some steam and, her tempestuous mind permitting, have a little fun. After doing just that, she shrugged her shoulders. "I just needed to blow off some steam I guess." She looked beyond Foaly to see a bunch of new recruits standing in the observation area. They had watched her work, and upon seeing her up close—seeing that she was a girl especially—they gaped and muttered reverent curses. This made Holly smile a little, as she remembered the time when she had been impressed by others' handiwork in the simulation. How things had changed.
"Why they relegated you to traffic duty for another eight months, I don't know," Foaly continued, walking with her down the hall. "You should be in recon with that trigger finger of yours."
"That's the top brass for you," Holly muttered, sotto voce—it would not do for a superior officer to hear her denouncing them. "Besides, there's more to recon than just shooting things, a lot more."
"True, but staying alive is paramount, and being able to take out fifty bad guys without so much as a scratch certainly helps."
Holly shrugged again, and nodded. "Perhaps."
Foaly then made a flamboyant gesture with his arms, speaking with a silly grin. "But alas, you beat my coded scenario once again! I'm going to need to code an entirely new scenario, that way you may actually be challenged."
It was Holly's turn to make a silly face, taking part in the friendly jesting that went on between them. "Bring it on, I bet you can't."
Foaly cocked an eyebrow, still grinning. "Oh it's on."
"A crate of carrot juice to the winner?" Holly asked, extending her hand to seal the deal.
Foaly, given his absolute confidence in his own abilities, did not hesitate. He clasped her hand and shook it, thereby sealing his fate. "You bet. And just so you know, I like the no name brand with the blue label. You'll need that for future reference, trust me."
"Yeah, keep thinking that Foaly, it will only make the look on your face when I win more memorable."
The centaur snorted and crossed his arms. "You should have more faith in my genius. After all, I am a genius."
Holly grinned and opened her mouth to reply, but the beeping of her communicator interrupted their conversation and left them both silent. She grabbed it off her belt and brought it to her ear, and though she opened her mouth to speak she said nothing; she was stopped by immediate speech on the other end, and whatever it was, it made her freeze. Her eyes widened into saucers, and all of the sudden her other hand was on her holster—a habit of comfort, a response to mortal fear. She listened to the voice on the other end—it was the Commander of LEPmarine himself—and only when it stopped did she utter a nearly unintelligible affirmation. Her arm went slack, her hand numb, and the communicator crashed to the floor. She didn't even notice dropping it, and neither was the crash perceived by her senses. Nothing in the material world could reach her as she stood there, frozen by a nightmare. "Oh gods…" she rasped, her voice filled with anguish and fear. She suddenly leaned against the wall, staring into oblivion, and Foaly could see that she was trembling.
"Holly, are you…?"
For one reason or another, Holly did not hear the centaur's words. She didn't even acknowledge his presence. She simply broke out into an astonishing sprint, whooshing past him with a rush of air and the sound of her boots striking the tiled floor. Foaly had no idea what had just happened, but in that fleeting moment he had seen the tears in her eyes and the look of utter torment on her face—neither of which he had ever seen from her before to such a degree. He looked the way she had sprinted, muttered a worried curse under his breath, and then rapidly grabbed his datapad from his belt. By the time he knew what had happened, Holly was long gone.
So fragile is the heart, and yet so strong are its fancies; as lasting as ancient mountains, and as steadfast as wrought iron, firm in its loyalties despite how fleeting, how transient life could be. And how unpredictable it was, this force of the soul, in how its hand drives one to great lengths and extraordinary efforts, beyond boundaries and through barriers with an unstoppable tenacity, recalcitrant against the very workings of the heavens. In it can be found depthless courage, astounding selflessness, and incomprehensible strength; and like a potent madness it cannot be shaken, not for all the world, not for life itself. It snares us, by our own will, and drives us down treacherous paths, whose ways are narrow and whose destinations are worth every moment of trial and hardship. Such a force burned within Holly, with a mighty vengeance, and its power gave her strength upon strength. She ran faster than she had ever before, through the plaza and beyond without so much as the passing of a minute, and whence out into the artificial outdoors of Haven, she did not slow. She could not slow, not now, not until she was where she wanted to be. That place, that desire, was with Coral, her beloved mother.
With passion and fear coursing through her like liquid fire, Holly strapped on a pair of wings—which she had grabbed during her mad dash out of the building—and launched herself into the air, ignoring procedures and throwing caution into the wind. She ignored those who tried to stop her, their remonstrations and very existences irrelevant. Nothing mattered to her now but the last shred of family she still had. And so she flew, breaking limits and ignoring the teeming city completely, weaving between buildings and through air traffic by skill, instinct, and reflex. Her destination was Haven Memorial Hospital, a few kilometers away, and no matter how fast she went it was not good enough for her troubled heart and shaken mind.
D'arvit, d'arvit, d'arvit! She was furious, provoked by fear and sorrow, utterly inconsolable. The only thing that would ease her fury was the sight of her mother, and the knowledge that she was not as the commander had said—that she would be alright, that she would live. She had to live! It was not possible for her to die like this, surely! Holly could not imagine losing her, even with all of her experience of the real world and all of its harsh realities. It was the one thing she could not accept, even though it was perfectly possible. Damn the possible! To hell with reason! She refused to give up hope. She refused everything upon that heartfelt wish.
Tears stung her eyes, caused equally by sorrow and the helmetless flight at speed, and there was a lump in her throat, a terrible feeling rising from her chest, that threatened to make her cry. She fought it back, remaining strong, glaring ahead and gritting her teeth even as tears flowed from her eyes and glittered in the air like rainfall in sunlight. She could not break now, not when Coral needed her. Come on, faster! Faster d'arvit! Go! Go! Her thoughts were all pushing her onward, screaming like a gallery of passionate observers, all determined for her to get to her mother's side, by whatever means. She could see the hospital now, not too far away, its white walls and telltale design setting it apart from the rest of Haven's sprawl. Once her eyes were upon it Holly went low and fast, skimming rooftops and startling those below. She knew that Coral would be there; the commander had told her, unambiguously, that she had been shuttled from Atlantis and was due to arrive any moment. Holly had to be there, and not a moment too late.
Please, wait for me, she thought desperately. The front entrance of the hospital was ahead, and before it was the grand yard, filled with gardens, ponds, and pathways for the patients. Holly blasted over this verdant place without any regard for it, sending flowers and leafs cascading through the air in a whirlwind of colors. She skimmed the pond nearest the entrance, accidentally bouncing off it its surface and nearly emptying it as a result, and then she reversed her wings' thrusters to slow herself down. It was such a close call that she stopped right at the automatic doors, which opened welcomingly. She tossed her wings off, leaving them beside a shocked nurse who'd been taking a break there, and stormed inside with an air of complete urgency.
Everyone in the lobby got out of her way once they saw her, and she did not pay any attention to them. She knew where to go, and none of the staff could stop her, not even if they tried. Anyone who got in her way risked complete annihilation, and the fact that she was dressed in her uniform gave her a little more freedom to do as she pleased. Where are you? She burst through the doors leading into the emergency reception area, where severe cases arrived via shuttle, and it was then that her hazel eyes, so wide with terror, found what they were so desperately searching for.
Mom…
Across the large room, through the side entrance, had appeared a team of medical warlocks pushing one of the advanced hover-stretchers, and their hasty appearance was met by a full team of specialists. For Holly, all that existed was the motionless form in that bed—the auburn hair, the willowy figure, and the unforgettable face. It struck her like a bullet, hard and fast, bringing the reality crashing down with further strength upon her. The nightmare was real, right before her eyes. This was terror in its rawest form, pure and unblemished, and it sliced through her heart with an ease that nothing, not even the fear of death, could match. It made futile all of her strength, all of her discipline, and even the hardened core of her being; all inane, all useless.
Upon seeing Coral, she did not stop. She broke past a throng of personnel and sprinted towards the rushing group, all the while screaming aloud. "Mother! Coral!" They were taking her towards the intensive care unit, which was beyond the large room through a white corridor. Holly was on their heels, but her appearance was noticed and a number of staff moved to stop her. It would be foolish of her to interrupt their work, but she was so overcome by fear and sorrow—the madness of her love—that she did not see reason. All she saw was her mother, motionless on that stretcher as if dead. She didn't even notice the others blocking her path until one of them, a gnome, spoke firmly.
"I'm sorry miss, but no visitors are allowed beyond this point!"
Holly looked at the gnome and felt an incomprehensible anger overcome her. "It's officer to you, civilian!" she growled, pushing him aside and glaring darkly. "Now get out of my way, all of you!"
The doctor was determined, grabbing her by the shoulder. "We cannot! Her life is in danger and they must operate immediately!"
"Let go of me!" Holly yelled, turning on the gnome in rage.
"Going in there will only disturb our team! It will hurt her even more!"
"Shut up! You shut up!" Holly roared, grabbing the gnome's hand and removing it from her shoulder. She looked back down the hall to see that Coral was gone, and that set her off like a flare. She started to move again, but was blocked in front and restrained from behind, all in all by ten fairies whose determination to protect their patient was far outmatched by Holly's desire to be with her mother. She cursed them, and proceeded to punch and kick her way free, knocking half of them to the ground in an instant and making the others tumble back in fear. Another trio joined the fray, and she punched the first across the mouth, the second in the gut, and then roundhouse kicked the third through a door. Seething with anger, and so confused by all the fear and adrenaline rushing through her, Holly tried to enter again, only to be stopped by even more dedicated fairies. This time there were too many, and at that moment her unhinged mind thought of drawing her neutrino and shooting her way through. That thought, in its madness, was enough to make her pause out of sheer astonishment; like a sleepwalker awakened by the touch of cold water to see that she had almost fallen into a rushing river. She realized at that moment how quickly she had lost control, and how close she had been to falling over the edge. Her hand was on her holster, trembling madly, and she stopped herself then and there, feeling a wave of clarity wash over her. Her fury and madness subsided, and her body, rigid and filled with adrenaline, lost its driving force. She lost it all, and the multitude of hospital staff dragged her back, away from Coral and whatever fate had done to her, away from her greatest desire. She felt weak all of the sudden, tired in spirit and in body, but her sorrow and fear remained, and it preyed upon her in her moment of defeat. With tears in her eyes and affliction in every aspect of her countenance, Holly was pulled away. She did not fight back, and when they sat her down all she did was stare blankly at the white floor, as if her sorrow had left her hollowed out and lifeless. And she sat there for hours, wallowing in torment and shame.
Time passed with the slowness of eroding rock, seconds and minutes dragging their heels upon their imperceptible pathways as if to scorn the lonely fairy who sat with her face in her hands. Tears spilled through her fingers, having pooled in her palms and overflowed, and they speckled her uniform one by one, almost noiseless and not heavy enough to feel—and yet what a loud and mighty force they bespoke, one hidden in the hearts and minds of the afflicted. Holly let them fall, let them mottle her clothing, and she did not care at all what anyone thought. She was long past the point of caring about anything but her mother. That was all that mattered to her, and yet there was nothing she could do. Nothing! It drove her mad with each passing moment, made her sick and so terribly upset. It filled her with self-loathing, even though any objective observer would deem her blameless. She hated herself for not being able to change that which was out of her control—despised for not doing the impossible. What do I do? What do I do?! This repeated in her mind, along with all of the other questions and fears, all without answer. Ultimately, all she could do was wait, however long it took, for the inevitable result of the battle that was raging behind closed doors. As a fighter and a daughter, she wanted nothing more than to be in that battle, but it was beyond her abilities, beyond her touch. She was nothing more than an observer to her mother's fate—to her survival, or her death.
She sat motionless, praying for the best and making wish after wish. The hospital staff clearly sympathized with her, even though she had given a few of them noticeable bruises. They gave her space, offered her food and water—which she refused—and overall displayed a remarkable level of professionalism. They didn't even call the police, not because she was an officer herself, but because they knew that she was not insane and most certainly not a threat, at least now that she had calmed down. They had seen it many times before, and knew a shattered, terrified being when they saw one.
For ten hours she sat there, getting more and more tired. She dozed off and on, passing from the nightmare of reality into the twisted horrors of her dreams, and never did she find rest. Foaly called her, informing her that she would not be penalized for skipping her work—apparently the top brass still had hearts behind their stony veneers. It mattered little to her either way, though it was good to talk to her friend, who was about the only person in the world that could still break through to her in that dark moment. Then she was alone again, waiting and waiting. Another hour later, when she had almost drifted into a dreamless sleep, she was startled by a voice to her right and a hand on her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin, and so frayed were her nerves that she almost punched the doctor who had had enough courage to disturb her. But when he preemptively began filling her in on the progress of Coral's treatment, she listened attentively and stayed her fist. Deep within her heart she had been expecting good news, but true to her fears, she received the opposite. A minute of this, and she was left emptier than before, dried up like a pool of water in a desert. She sagged back in her seat, deflated, and breathed in long, pacifying breaths, trying to control herself and fight back her emotions. The doctor waited on her, but she did not keep him waiting long. It was with a sudden clarity and control that she mustered her words, and she spoke them almost emotionlessly.
"Let me see her, please."
They did, and three minutes later she was in a sterile room, led in by staff and informed of what to expect. The first thing she noticed was the smell—she did not know what it was, but it would remain with her always—and then the sound of the machinery, whirring away with its artificial prolongation of a declining life. Everything was white, pure to the point that it glowed, and it was in this deceptive realm of purity that she saw what the impure world had done. Coral Short lay in bed, with so many wires and tubes attached to her that she seemed to be more of that than anything, and Holly approached eagerly and yet with great fear. But then she saw her face, her auburn hair, her startling blue eyes; she stared at them, frozen by the familiar and beloved sight amidst all of the unfamiliar and horrific changes, like seeing a captivating flower rising through ashes and bones.
"Mother…Coral…" Holly said softly. She could barely articulate the words, so overwhelmed was she by what she saw. Up close, unlike before, she could see the extent of Coral's condition. She looked hundreds of years older, withered and fragile, as if a breeze would turn her to dust. Her skin was pale and breaking, peeling off and oozing fluid, and the extent of her auburn hair was only a few patches where there had once been vibrant fullness; beauty and fairness torn away, not by time but by radiation. Her eyes, opened slightly and staring at nothing, were red and unfocused, and blood still trickled from her nose, her ears, her mouth, and even those inflamed eyes. It shook Holly to the core, and burned into her memory forever, and for a long moment she just stood there, staring whilst the doctor spoke over her shoulder. Despite all of their efforts, the specialists had only been able to slow the progress of the radiation poisoning. Apparently Coral had been exposed to too much high-level radiation, and had not received preliminary treatment soon enough. It was too late for her. She was dying.
Dying… Holly stood there, dumbstruck, for what felt like an eternity. It was incomprehensible, the thought of her mother dying, and yet there it was before her, in the flesh, in the blood, in the slow rising and falling of the chest and the whirr of the machines. Dying… Holly felt like she too was fading away, as her strength failed her, and her very heart seemed like it was ready to burst. She could not do it anymore, she could not hold on to anything amidst the waters of her despair. What little fortification there was within her broke at that moment, along with all hope, falling apart and scattering in the winds of sorrow like dead leafs, cast away and lost forever. It was then that Holly Short truly lost herself, lost it all, and simply shattered like glass.
Falling to her knees, she let out a pathetic cry and wept, more than she had ever wept in her entire life. Her hands, shaky and weak, rested on Coral's right arm as if to hold her back from the abyss of death, and as she knelt at her side, she remembered the last time they had spoken, the promise they had shared and the love that had been assured. It was only yesterday that Coral had been strong and well, and yet in such a short time she was like this, broken and fading away. It was surreal, maddening, for Holly to realize this, and it served to amplify her terror, her sadness, and her utter disbelief. This cannot be real, it cannot be real! But it was, and she knew it too despite her refusal to accept it. Even the fool who thought a ship unsinkable could not ignore the water rising at his feet, nor the doom waiting below; he could only clutch to halfhearted ignorance, dreaming wide awake. Holly held on to this pointless resistance for but a moment, before sliding down an Avernus of complete hopelessness and depression. All the while the doctor and his staff stood by, watching tragedy unfold. Soon they left, leaving Holly alone in her sorrows, if not only to give her privacy. She felt so alone, even though her mother was right there.
"Mother," Holly sobbed, holding her arm and looking into her sightless eyes. "Please, tell me you're there." How desperately she wanted Coral to see her, to recognize her, and to speak to her. It was the most powerful desire she had ever felt in her life, for how precious it would be, that final contact, that irreplaceable moment. She held her mother, gently, and spoke to her with her broken voice. "I am here mother. I will not leave you, not this time. I am here…Right here…"
For the longest and most painful moment there was nothing—nothing but Coral's shallow breathing and the sound of machines—but then it came, subtly and yet with a startling power. Holly felt her mother's hand move, ever so slightly, so that it could rest on hers. And her reddened eyes, gaining focus, locked on hers with evident recognition. Holly stared back, tears running down her face, and smiled as best she could. "Mom…"
Coral's eyes widened a little, and her face, despite being ruined, betrayed the deep feelings of a parent beholding her greatest joy. "Holly…"
It was a whisper, barely audible, but for Holly it may as well have been a roar. Coral's voice, despite being dry and weary, was still the voice of her mother, unmistakable and wonderful. They stared into each other's eyes, exchanging more in that simple act than words could ever accomplish, but soon Coral's expression wavered as her tired mind began to put together everything. She spoke slowly, and with a sorrow that matched Holly's own.
"I am sorry, Holly, I truly am…"
"Don't apologize," Holly said softly, still smiling through her sadness. She held on to Coral's hand, tenderly and with care. "I could never hold anything against you, not when you were always everything I wanted to be."
Coral smiled upon hearing those words, and that smile, despite her state, was beautiful and uplifting. "Thank…you…"
"Don't mention it," Holly said, holding back a sob.
They remained together like that for an hour, holding hands in silence. Coral could not speak very much, and she drifted in and out of consciousness at random, and every time she did Holly wondered if she would not open her eyes again. It was a cruel thing, knowing that someone you loved was fading away and yet not knowing when they would make that final journey into death's embrace. It was torture, just like everything else had been, and it hurt Holly so much.
She remained there by her side day by day, never leaving but for the necessities, and she never regretted it. There was no time that was worth more than this, no moments that were better spent. This was priceless, more precious than all of the riches in the world, and Holly would give anything, everything, for even a little more time. But it was set in stone, irreversible, the days going by along with the life of her mother, who had no more than a week to live. And it was terrible, utterly horrific, how she deteriorated over those days. Between hours, even minutes, it was noticeable. She would leave to go to the bathroom, and when she returned a few minutes later she would see a few more lines on Coral's face, a few more hairs gone from her head, and a little more life gone from her blue eyes. It broke her already shattered heart, and it took all of her strength to remain strong for her mother. It took everything, and still demanded more.
Four days passed. The hospital staff, having further affirmed that no amount of magic or technology could save Coral's life, had ensured that Coral was placed in a comfortable room and was given medicine to reduce the pain. It was all they could do to make her final moments painless, so that she could spend them with Holly. And Holly waited all those four days, eating rarely and sleeping little, afflicted by sorrow and still clinging onto the final moments with heart wrenching determination. She did not go to work, she refused to leave Coral's side, and no amount of threats or colorful language could persuade her of otherwise. She did not know at the time, but in spite of that flagrant refusal her commanders, on word from LEPmarine and Captain Endgrove, had given her temporary leave in order to remain where she was—a little more heart in the apparently heartless system of rigid command. And so she sat there, always by Coral's side, always there for her in her darkest hour, in her fleeting last chapter of life.
It was on that fourth day that Holly found herself sitting in her usual spot, holding her mother's hand and speaking softly to her, even though she could not hear her. The room provided a wonderful view of the gardens, and with Haven's artificial breeze the cool air gently blew through the open windows and caressed them both with the scent of flowers. Coral would have loved the view, and most certainly the smell, and it was Holly's sincere wish that she could still perceive those things.
"It's so beautiful, mom," she whispered. "The flowers are all in bloom, and the breeze is perfect…" She looked out into that vibrant place, seeing all the life and feeling the contrast with the death that was before her. Yet all flowers spoiled too, many without blooming at all—perhaps a life well lived was all one could hope for. Holly stared until her mother's irregular breathing snapped her out of it, and then she resumed her gentle speaking. She would talk about work, about her friends and adventures, but more than anything she would talk about the times she and Coral had had together. She remembered aloud the days when her father had been alive, and all the things they had done as a family, together in happiness. She remembered all of the silly thing she had done as a child, all of times she had gotten in trouble and all the moments when Coral had been there to discipline her. She remembered when she had been sad, afraid, or hurt, and how Coral had been there to comfort her; she had always been there, all those years ago. And it was with such wondrous clarity that Holly could recall the things that she had otherwise been unable to contrive in her mind's eye. For the longest time she had been unable to remember her seventh birthday, when they had taken a trip to the surface to see the great oak trees and smell the spring air. She recalled Coral giving her an acorn to keep for herself, on that warm sunny day, and how she had planted it in the family garden. She could see so many things that had been lost to time, so many memories that had faded and lost their touch, and they came to her one by one, as if they had happened only yesterday. Tears filled her eyes as this happened, and they overflowed in moments, spilling down her face. Only now, when she was holding her dying mother's hand, did she remember those things.
It made her sob, but she kept her cry at bay and instead squeezed Coral's hand a little tighter. This time she thought she felt Coral squeeze back, and it saddened her all the more. Why did this have to happen to her? Why did Coral have to die like this? She did not deserve it, she never did, and yet her life had been ruined, destroyed beyond repair, by humans who would never know or understand what they had done. It filled Holly with confusion, and then grew into frustration. That frustration mutated into anger, and then, like water boiling over the edge of a pot, it became hatred. It burned through her so suddenly, so powerfully, that she was swept away by its dark allure. Her sad face contorted into a look of pure malice, and her eyes, though spilling endless tears, became the very image of spite. She stared at her mother, at her broken form, and felt her fury bubble over. It was so easy to hate, and Holly had every reason to.
"I will make them pay," she said, vowing at that moment to get revenge. "I will hunt down every last one of those Mud Men!"
So overcome was she by hatred that she lost sight of Coral, but an instant later she felt her hand on hers, squeezing stronger than it ever had before. She looked down again, caught off guard, and saw her mother looking up at her with an expression that was firm and filled with passion. Her eyes, those brilliant blue eyes, burned into her and left her silent and still, and that was when Coral spoke with astonishing force.
"No, Holly. I spent my career saving creatures. You must do the same." She squeezed tighter, but her features softened into a beseeching look. "Destruction cannot be my legacy."
Holly felt all of her violent fervor melt away, and it was replaced by shame—crushing, unrelenting shame. Looking into Coral's eyes, she saw the pain as well—the pain of a mother fearing that her child would do something terrible in her name. "I'm sorry," she stammered, nearly breathless and overcome with self-loathing, "I'm just…so angry…How can I forgive them for doing this to you?"
Coral held her gaze, but this time she spoke gently. "Forgiveness, not hatred, is what will save this world. We cannot hate as they do, nor seek reprisal as they do, it will only destroy us and all that we've worked towards." She paused, taking a few breaths to regain some of her strength. "We must remain true to ourselves, Holly, no matter what. Do not fall victim to what preys on the humans so easily. Do not lose yourself." Once again her failing body forced her to pause, and once again she began anew, shakily but with fierce determination. "Please, Holly, carry on what I have worked for all my life. Protect it, for me…"
Holly nodded as tears flowed from her eyes, battling her hatred so that she could fulfill her mother's wish. She put both hands on her mothers'. "I will…I promise…" She had almost no faith in herself, so low was her spirit, but Coral seemed to see her for who she was, and had more confidence in her than she could ever muster. Holly then realized that Coral was trying to reach up to her, and so she knelt close and helped raise her right arm so that it touched her tearstained cheek. Coral smiled.
"I am proud of you Holly. Never forget that."
Holly smiled in return, even as her heart continued to break more and more. "I will always remember."
"And don't forget, that I…"
Holly waited on her mother's words, and when they did not come she spoke worriedly. "Mom?" She did not get a response this time. Coral had slipped back into unconsciousness, closing her eyes and going limp. Holly could still see the rising and falling of her chest, and the machines still displayed a steady heartbeat—she was still fighting strong, even as death's shadow hung over her. How proud Holly was of her too. How immensely proud! Coral deserved all of her admiration, all of her faith, and so much more. How sad that such intangible sentiments were all she had left to offer.
Two more days went by before she knew it, and nothing happened during them but the steady decline of Coral's health—its declivity was steep, relentless, and terrifying. She did not wake, so intense was her battle with death, but Holly would watch her face all the same, noting every change and every slight flicker of emotion. It was all she could do now, and she was so filled with pain and sorrow that she actually felt barely anything. She was exhausted in every way, worn out and torn apart, and like a hollowed-out creature she sat motionless by her mother's side, looking as afflicted as her. The doctors would come in, do their checks, and leave silently; everything else was taken care of by the machines attached to Coral's body. Holly hated the machines, hated how they looked and sounded, but she found that even hate could not find purchase in her heart, not with it so riddled with holes. Instead she felt little but the depthless pit of despair that was in her chest, which every now and then rose like a tide and reduced her to tears and pitiful sobs. She did not know how she had any more tears left to shed, they seemed endless. But no matter how broken she was, she never stopped loving, and never ceased to remain loyal to her mother to the very end.
"I never really thanked you enough for the omnitool you gave me," she said abruptly, feeling the weight of the tool on her belt—so light and yet so oddly heavy to her now. She took it from its holster with a slowness that bespoke her care for it, and then she held it in both hands, eyeing the silver lettering that Coral had lovingly inscribed. "It has yet to let me down, mother. I don't think it ever will. It is the best present I have ever received." She smiled a little, still looking over the device. "You sure know what to get for a crazy fool like me…"
Coral stirred a little in her bed, but said nothing. Perhaps she could hear what was being said, just too weak to respond. Holly didn't know, but she put her hand on her mother's shoulder and spoke close to her ear, wishing for it to be true. "Thank you. For everything." She put her arms around Coral, gently, and held her close for what could very well be the last time. "Thank you so much!" She held her for a long time, afraid to let go. She did not want to let go, not ever, so great was her love and her fear combined. If only her strength was enough to keep Coral from passing; if only her embrace was stronger than the cold embrace of Death. But she was weak, a mere mortal contending against the very workings of the stars; her efforts were doomed to fail, as had all of her hopes and dreams. Into the inferno it all fell, powerless. She had never been sorrier in her entire life than at this moment, when she could do nothing at all even when every fiber of her being screamed for the opposite. Cruel fate, fickle time, and deceptive fortune all played against her, but perhaps not everything was a loss. Perhaps there was some little triumph in all of this, even though she could not see it.
She laid Coral back down upon the soft cushions of the bed, and then she wiped her own eyes of the tears that were blinding her. When she saw clearly she could see Coral's face, and upon it there was the slightest smile, the very smallest of expressions of perfect contentment. And there were tears, mingling with blood, rolling down her pale cheeks, glittering in the light and leaving glistening streaks. As distant was she was from the world, as caught up in her struggle with death as she was, she had not failed to hear and feel what mattered to her most, and neither had she failed to show a final display of gratitude. Her lips moved, and they mouthed words that Holly would never forget. Then she lay still, with a smile on her face, and breathed no more.
Holly watched as Coral's chest ceased moving, as her final breath departed her, and as the machines all indicated a static heart. She stared, eyes wide and mouth parted to say something that never got out in time, and it was only a few seconds later that her stricken mind made the terrible calculation. It set in stone the reality before her, carving it into her heart and soul as letters in obsidian. The machines beeped and beeped, urgent as if Coral could still be saved, but the truth was that she was gone, forever. Holly did not hear them anymore, nor did she hear the sound of the doctors and nurses entering the room. She perceived nothing but her precious mother, lying still with a beautiful smile gracing her otherwise obliterated features. Her blue eyes were still open, staring upwards as if into the heavens to which she had fled, towards her spirit's refuge, her final place of peace and rest. Holly struggled to her feet, shuffled until she loomed over Coral, and gazed into those eyes. They were lifeless, bereft of the spark that Coral had so brilliantly displayed, but they were still her eyes, and they tugged at Holly's heart.
"Goodbye, mother," she whispered softly, with tears flowing and a lump rising in her throat. "Goodbye…Coral…" Her whole body was trembling, as was her very soul, but when she raised her right hand to Coral's face she found herself steady, as if a sympathetic strength had risen to aid her. With that steadied hand, she closed the wonderful blue eyes forever, shutting the gate on their distant gaze and laying them to their final rest. When it was done, Holly remained where she stood, frozen by what she felt and held there, captivated, by the sight of her mother's still form. Only when they draped a white cloth over her face did she find the presence of mind to move back, but even then she simply stared, hollow and uncertain as the body was taken away. Truly, something within her had just died alongside Coral. A part of her, an irreplaceable and fundamental piece of her being, had flown away, and it would never return. She would never be whole again.
Soon Holly was alone in the room apart from a single nurse who waited patiently at the exit. She stood for a few more moments, trembling slightly, and then unknowingly slumped back down onto her chair, still gazing into oblivion, confused and so horribly sick. It was as if she had been torn from herself and cast into oblivion, her heart inundated with a sea of all-consuming nothingness and her whole world enveloped by an impenetrable darkness. And yet, in spite of it all, the only image in her mind's eye was the smile that Coral, even in death, had left her with. It was burned into her mind, seared by fire, and she did not know how to feel about it. She did not know how to feel at all.
