Disclaimer: MINE!
A/N: This is probably going to be the last chapter before the epilogue... But fret not. This story is in its draft stage, so there will probably be a few editions over the next year with more sideplots and cut-outs that never got put in in the end. And there is probably going to be a sequel following the Daleria/Rapieratce edition of the story, many different considerations all in all. Basically, this isn't going to be the last of WRC's. Trust me... Same as all, I'm feeling kind of depressed this is ending. The story is more or less family to me now...
*
Rapieratce looked at Daleria curiously as he tried to come to terms with what she was trying to get across to him. They were sitting together on a large balcony, watching the morning sunrise as the orange ball of fire rose steadily and slow from the east, framed by the soft sky blue above and the green canopy below. Daleria had tilted her chair back and her feet rested against the railing, whereas Rapieratce had opted to stand, his face impassive as usual, leaning against the wall. Having become good friends over the seasons, the two of them ignored all formalities and protocol, vouching rather for a casual approach. Daleria shrugged.
'I suppose it's about time I've given up, 'Atce.'
'Given up, Dale?'
'Everything I've been holding on to, I suppose: Those minute memories that seemingly don't mean a thing, every emotion and moment, pointless things made worthwhile. Trying to stop time in a glass bottle and immerse myself in it, in everything that I had to give back to life. All that made my life miserable and unbearable. It hurts, more than I ever thought it would. I had no foresight, I was a fool, thinking I could stay these things that eventually had to fade. I let heal my scars then gashed them open again, effectively. It still pains me so much, holing everything up. It comes back to me, over and over again, and I'm afraid to let go of this handhold I'm gripping on, this last straw that I hang by, and simply let myself go. I know I have to.'
Rapieratce said nothing. He did not have to, as Daleria wore that slightly glazed over smile on her face as she gazed absently at the sun. It was over, and both of them knew it. The colonel walked forward and placed a paw on her shoulder.
*
Remora was surprised at the change she saw in Daleria that day. Something was different, she could feel it. The was the younger hare acted, walked and that look in her eyes. Something had changed, the brigadier knew it. It was as if Daleria had been reborn again, or something in that effect. There was no more sorrow in those black eyes, no more regretful silences and actions when she thought nobeast was looking. Her voice seemed clearer, less rash, less burdened. Her step seemed lighter, less heavy as compared to before. The essence of fear and uncertainty seemed to have fled from her. Something was different. Remora was even more stunned as the young captain admitted that she had let go. In fact the entire group of Salamandastron hares were shocked, save perhaps Rapieratce, who was closest to Daleria. The captain, letting go...?
*
The five hares sat in Daleria's room that night, as a fire blazed in the background, crackling and sending shadows springing back and forth in a rapid dance. There was a companionable silence as they all absorbed the fact that Daleria had finally given up holding on to the past. Everything was mostly in a confused blur, nobeast really understanding where they stood any longer. Glamoren looked at Daleria, his head tilted to the side curiously.
'What changed you, Dale?'
'I'm not sure I'm even changed, Glamoren. I'm not sure at all.'
'Something had to change, somehow, Dale.'
'What really counts to me is what changed, I suppose, Glamoren. What really counts.'
