This one-shot should suffice until I update Denouement. I hope you like it; it has definitely helped me out of my writer's block. I would like to think it is a bit different in style compared to the other fics I've written, but who knows.
I would appreciate any feedback through a review. Thanks! =)
It was half past midnight, the crescent moon still in its infancy. A shroud of mist hung along the base of Osidh Annova, and the mountain's haunting shadow stretched far across the land at its feet. A sheet of stars painted the ceiling high above the Dhillarearë, wide swathes of glowing beacons becoming of the mid-sized School below. Innail was the name of this establishment, its many buildings and towers reigning triumphantly within the sight of the mountain range. Ribbons of smoke billowed into the air not far from the city's center. They were the only evidence to the once towering fires that lit up the evening, save the statuesque woman who stood solemnly beside one of the dying conflagrations.
Her slender figure accounted for her frailty, her dark hair matching the grief displayed on her face. A mourning veil was pulled back from the woman's tear-stained cheeks and rested on the crown of her head. The ebony gown she wore blew wildly in a gust of wind and accentuated the loneliness in her heart.
She wept for the dead, for those whose bodies had been burned in the aftermath of the war. All their loved ones- children, mothers, sisters, husbands and wives had collected earlier in the evening to pay homage to the dead, before their souls passed beyond the reach of time. She had been amongst the crowd of weeping bards, shedding her own tears for what she had lost. Had I only been stronger, Hem would not be among the dead, she thought sadly.
"Nir liena," a soft voice spoke behind her. Maerad did not turn. "It's late."
The man had been witness to the brutal events, the screams of agony that filled her recent dreams with bitter memories of the days past. He had gallantly fought off the minions of the Nameless One, suffering his own wounds to defend the Light. Had it not been for his strength, Maerad too, would've succumbed to evil that had stolen her young brother.
"I just wanted to stay until the fire went out," her voice echoed in the eerie silence. "...Until I could bear the grief long enough to walk away."
Her voice was filled with much emotion as Cadvan joined her side and gazed at the growing pile of ashes. He could feel the simmering heat against his skin as it staved off the chill of the night. He would've gladly accepted the warmth had it not been the knowledge that its fuel had been his friends. It was with this thought that Cadvan felt a rush of hatred and sorrow race across his body. He was glad that Sharma was dead.
Maerad stole a glance at him and saw grief mirrored in his eyes. While she had sat indoors crying, he had amassed enough will to help build the numerous towers of wood and fuel. When all was finished, he had assisted the healers in laying the bodies side by side on the platforms until all the dead were assembled atop the tinder. Maerad had entered the outer courtyard as a single torch was placed inside each pillar and observed the flames licking the bodies that had made her sick. Cadvan was much stronger than she would ever be.
Maerad's attention was torn from the crackling fire when he cleared his throat and turned to face her.
"I know what it is like to lose a sibling." His voice was quiet.
Maerad furrowed her eyebrows and met his sad, tired eyes. "What?"
"My mother died when I was six, giving birth to my youngest brother, Morvan. The others died of various illnesses; they never made it to adulthood."
Maerad was speechless at his confession; Cadvan had never told her this before. "I-" she began uncertainly. "I did not know you had any family."
She had assumed that like the rest of his past, such information would never be handed out willingly. Inside, Maerad knew that Cadvan was doing what he thought would comfort her- showing that he knew what she was feeling; that she wasn't alone. He had been somewhat right in his assumptions.
"How stupid is it that such information is comforting?" she asked him through mind-speech. A lump had risen in her throat and she couldn't use her voice.
"There was not a cause more worthy of Hem's life, than that which took him from this world," Cadvan spoke thoughtfully. He swallowed hard as a flame found another source of ignition and grew brighter. "He fought with much dignity, Maerad, and you must honor him enough to let him keep it, wherever he is. There will come a point in time where you will have to let go."
"But I love him too much," she tore her eyes away from Cadvan's. "I love him too much.."
"I loved him too, Maerad," Cadvan's voice was unusually strained.
For an instant, Maerad could see Hem's face clearly before her, his wild hair tousled about his small head. In spite of his age, Hem had always been the strongest twelve year old boy she'd ever met. When he had told her of Zelika, she had glimpsed herself within him and it had always given her hope even in the darkest of nights. Now, she would never talk with him, hold him, or otherwise converse with her brother until she too, passed through the gates.
A fresh wave of tears emerged from her eyes, and she reacted by burying her face in Cadvan's chest. Her body rocked with tremors, as he held her close. "I have no one," she sobbed. "Everything I love has been stolen from me."
"I am here, Maerad. I will never leave you," he reminded her. He kissed her forehead and gently picked her up. "I'm taking you inside," he whispered. "You haven't rested in days."
Maerad nodded slowly and closed her eyes. In her mind, she imagined Hem smiling at her, the joy not lost from his face. He appeared untouched, perfect as he had in her dreams, only he had a voice that lulled her into sleep. "It will be all right, Maerad."
And somehow, she knew that one day it would be.
