Chapter 35: Living Alive
Chanse turned her head from side to side, very slowly, as she slowly became more conscious. She slowly opened her eyes to a dark ceiling, slightly lit up by the faint moonlight shining in through the large window. She turned her head to the right to see the window, and to get a better glimpse of the room she was in...back in the hospital.
She sighed as she turned to look back up at the ceiling. She brought her right hand up to her face and placed it halfway on her forehead and halfway on her right eye. When she didn't feel her skin touch her face she opened her eyes to see a piece of parchment in her hand. She opened her hand a little more and the parchment fluttered out of her hand and onto her chest.
She looked around the room a little to see if anyone was there, but the room was empty. 'Where's Oliver?' Chanse thought as she looked on either side of the bed for him. He was nowhere to be found. 'Maybe he stepped out for some food or a blanket...' Chanse told herself as she turned her attention back to the parchment.
She slowly reached down to it and picked it up. She pushed herself back against the headboard and sat up a little more. She rolled the parchment down and began to read what the parchment said:
Dear Chanse,
Madam Pomfrey said, well really demanded, that I not sit in the room with you while you sleep. So I'm sorry that when you woke I wasn't there holding your hand.
Chanse smiled, 'Oliver...' she thought.
Even though Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me even sit in your room she did say that I could leave you this note. So since I'm not there to physically hold your hand...
Chanse unrolled the parchment more to find a trace of Oliver's hand and a little writing just below the trace of his hand.
Here's a trace of my hand, and it's in your hand, so that's the closest to having you wake and me holding your hand, that we're going to get.
I'm in the lobby, probably asleep. But when you wake, if you want, you can come wake me.
Oliver Wood.
Chanse couldn't help at laugh at the letter. 'He's such a hopeless romantic.' Chanse teased Oliver in her head as she laughed aloud.
"I should go wake him before he has a panic attack if I'm alright or not," Chanse chuckled as she pushed back her sheets. 'He probably already had one when I passed out in the Commons Room.' She sighed in her head as she stepped out of bed.
Her feet touched the cold marble, and then slowly Chanse stood up. She wrapped her arms around herself because of the coldness in the room. She walked over to her door and grabbed the doorknob. She slowly twisted and inched the door open, very carefully.
She peeked her head out of her room and looked to the right to she another large window, like the one in her room. She looked to the left and saw someone bundled up on the waiting room couch. They had a blanket curled all around them, which moved up and down with every breath that the person took.
'Good. Oliver's still there.' Chanse thought with a smiled as she made her way down the hall.
She got right next to the couch and was about to wake Oliver. "Miss Potter what are you doing out of bed?" a voice hissed in a whisper.
Chanse quickly turned around to find no one there. She looked around the room until she looked over at a desk where Madam Pomfrey was standing behind, with her hands on her hips. "Well?" Madam Pomfrey demanded again.
"Um...well..." Chanse tried to think of an excuse as to why she was out of bed.
"Well what?" Madam Pomfrey stepped out from behind her desk.
Chanse glanced over at Oliver, who hadn't moved, "Well I was coming to wake Oliver and tell him I'm alright..." Chanse's voice trailed off.
"You are not alright," Madam Pomfrey walked over to Chanse and put her hand on her back and led her back to her room. "Every time you leave this hospital you faint," she got Chanse back into her bed, "and with you dying and all that worries me." She tucked the covers around Chanse.
"Madam Pomfrey you don't have to worry about me." Chanse chuckled.
"I may not have to," Madam Pomfrey stopped tucking Chanse in and stared at her, "but I just do." She went around to all the machines around Chanse and checked them out.
"Madam Pomfrey you may worry about me because of who you are, but you don't have to."
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey turned and looked at her, "I do worry about you. You're dying and that's what I worry about." She turned and adjusted a knob, "and until I feel I can stop worry, you are staying right here in this bed."
"What?!" Chanse sat up straight.
Madam Pomfrey glared over her shoulder at Chanse, as she continued messing with the knob, "You heard me."
"You can't do that!"
Madam Pomfrey turned all the way around, "I can and I will."
"No. I'm not staying here!" Chanse sat up in protest.
"Chanse you will not argue with me about this."
"About what?! My life?"
"Chanse this is something that neither one of us can control but I can help delay it."
"What about what I want, Madam Pomfrey? This is my life we're talking about. Don't you think I should be able to say what I'm going to do and not do?"
"Right now. At this point...No. I don't think you have that say."
"Over my life?"
"Yes. Over your life."
"Then who does? Huh? Who?"
"Me."
"I don't see how that's fair at all."
"Chanse you're staying in that bed, and that's final."
"Says you," Chanse muttered.
"Says everyone. No one wants you to die Chanse." Madam Pomfrey seemed to be pleading.
"You think I want to die?!" Chanse gasped, "I've just excepted the fact that I am! And no one has to know I'm going to die."
"But Chanse that time you never wake up again, everyone will know you're dead. Everyone will mourn and everyone will ask why."
"Why what?"
"Why did she die? Why couldn't she live longer? Why was the curse put on her? They're going to ask why to everything possible, and I want to be able to look them in the eyes and say we tried."
Chanse shook her head as she looked down at her sheets, "They're going to ask why. But most people will ask, did she," Chanse looked up at Madam Pomfrey, "Did she die happy?"
"And I'll look them in the eyes and say she survived longer."
"But they're asking did I die happily. Not if I survived longer. And in keeping me in this bed you'll have to look them in the eyes and tell them no."
"I will tell them yes," Madam Pomfrey said sternly.
"Then you will be lying to them. To their faces and eyes. You will be lying."
"I will most certainly not be."
"You will be," Chanse said calmly. "Because I'm telling you now, while I'm alive, that if I stay in this bed until I die then I will die unhappy."
"But you won't stay in that bed until you die."
"Until you stop worrying? Who knows when that will be."
"It could be soon. That's why you need to stay there."
"You're going to worry about me all the time, just like you worry about every student here all the time. But you don't keep them to a bed like you're doing me..."
"They don't have a curse on them that will kill them."
"Forget about the curse for a second," Chanse huffed. "Listen to me. Listen to the words that I'm saying...When I look out that window," Chanse pointed to the large window to her right, "during the day, I see everyone playing around and being happy." She turned and looked back at Madam Pomfrey. "I want to be happy before I die."
"And I'm saying that maybe if you stay in this bed long enough you won't die."
"I'm going to die Madam Pomfrey!" Chanse shouted, "Except it! I know I have, and I've excepted it." Chanse sighed, "That's why when I faint, I keep asking to leave, because I know that that's going to happen to me because I'm dying."
"But Chanse..."
"No. Listen." Chanse whispered, "You keep dwelling on this curse. You can't dwell on something you can't change, you have to find a way to change it towards your benefit." Chanse sighed, "That's why I keep going. Because I know I'm going to die. I don't want to. But I am."
"And I don't want you to die either Chanse."
"Exactly. And with you restricting me to this bed you're holding me down." Chanse pleaded. "I don't want to die having people know or even myself knowing I didn't try, or I was too scared, or that I died unhappy."
Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to say something but closed it and looked down at the ground. "When I die I want to know and be known for trying..."
"And that's what I want. That's why I keeping you here. So you can try." Madam Pomfrey looked up at Chanse.
"Keeping me here isn't helping me try. It's making me unhappy, and more scared." Chanse whispered. "Because I sit here in this bed and think that maybe the next time I faint I won't wake up. That I won't see everyone's face again, and I won't have the chance to say goodbye. Or tell them I love them. Or thank them for all the great memories." Chanse sighed. "Because when I spend eternity watching everyone grow up I want to be able to look back at the memories I had with them. That's what will make me happy. Having memories with everyone." Chanse took a moment and stared at Madam Pomfrey.
"But Chanse the more memories you gain the quicker you die." Madam Pomfrey whispered.
"I don't care, and either will they. That's why I want to leave. I get my old memories back and I get new ones. And that's why I'm more scared sitting in this bed then I am out there getting memories. Because I'm out there, living. And that's all that matters to them. That I'm standing in front of them breathing and my heart's beating, and I'm living." Chanse paused as tears started to fill her eyes, "Because in that moment," she closed her eyes and then slowly opened them. "In that moment. All that matters is one thing," Chanse blinked her eyes and a single tear rolled down her right cheek. "I'm alive."
Madam Pomfrey stayed silent and just slightly nodded her head once and left the room, softly shutting the door behind her.
Chanse let out a quivering breath as she cupped both her hands over her mouth and nose. She took a quivering breath in and slowly blew it out as she wiped her tear from her cheek. As she wiped the tear she turned her face towards the window and opened her eyes slowly.
Her eyes locked on a bright star outside of the window. 'You need to read the stars for yourself, Chanse.' Firenze's words played over in Chanse's head as she stared at the lone star.
"I don't even know how to." Chanse whispered as if someone was in the room but the only response she got back was silence.
She stared at the star for a long time until she decided to move. She slowly gathered all her strength and silently pushed back her covers. She carefully crawled out of bed and placed her feet on the ground. When they touched the cold marble and she looked around to see if anyone was there...no one was.
She carefully walked over to the window and looked up into the night sky and saw more and more stars were coming out. 'How do I read the stars?' Chanse thought as she looked over each star, one by one.
Chanse placed her hand against the window and felt the coldness of the window against her palm. She looked over the stars again and still nothing happened. "Firenze," Chanse whispered as she continued looking around the stars. 'I can't do it.' Chanse thought as she slid her hand off of the glass and started to head back towards her bed.
"The cold one is dead," a faint voice sang.
Chanse stopped in her tracks and looked around, "Hello?"
"A war has broken out in the eastern world," a different faint voice sang.
"Who's there?" Chanse turned around and no one was there.
"To the south they have found a discovery," yet another faint voice sang.
Chanse turned around and saw all the stars starting to twinkle. "Is it you who is talking?" Chanse whispered as she walked back to the window.
The room fell silent as she got to the window.
"Was it you?" Chanse whispered, "Was it all of you singing?" She placed her hand on the window, "Was it all of you saying those things?"
In an instant thousands of voices started to sing different things at Chanse. She pulled her hand off the window hoping it would make them stop but it didn't. She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut. Nothing made the stars stop singing.
Chanse cupped her hands over her ears and started to whisper, "Stop it...stop it!" She said loudly, and just as quickly as they started singing they stopped. She slid her hands down from her ears and slowly looked up at the stars.
She flashed her eyes over each star and carefully listened to a little bit of the song they had to sing.
"I see you are reading them." A voice from behind said calmly.
Chanse jumped a little at the voice and turned around to see Ronan stepped out of the shadows, towards Chanse.
"Yes I am." Chanse nodded.
"So then you know that I read them wrong?" Ronan looked down in disappointment.
"I only know that because Firenze told me."
"Firenze?" Ronan looked back up, "But he's dead."
"That's what I said," Chanse chuckled. "He was in a dream of mine."
"Ah, yes," Ronan nodded. "Dreams are a way for the dead to communicate with the living."
"In my dream he told me to read the stars for myself because you had read them wrong."
"That I did," Ronan sighed. "Even though Firenze was one of the most disobedient of the centaurs of the forest, and the more wilder ones, he still was one of the wiser ones."
"I don't know what Firenze was like with other centaurs," Chanse walked over to her bed and sat down, "but to humans he was great. A great centaur and friend."
"That he was with other centaurs. Always looking out for the weaker kinds and things or that sort."
"He always looked out for humans. Even though centaurs don't like us he looked out for us." Chanse weakly smiled.
"Most centaurs thought Firenze was a fool for helping humans. Most thought humans were the reason why Firenze died, and most thought that humans should have paid for making us loose someone as great as Firenze."
Chanse looked down at her sheets and whispered, "Centaurs should blame a race because of one human."
"What are you talking about Chanse?"
"I remember when Firenze was killed. He died because of me." Chanse felt her heart clench but she continued to talk. "I remember seeing his blood on the ground."
"Chanse," Ronan whispered as he walked over to Chanse and placed his hands on her hands. "Firenze died to save someone that had more to her life."
"But now I'm going to die when Firenze could have lived many years." Chanse whispered as she looked up at Ronan.
"Don't blame yourself for Firenze's death. It wasn't your fault. Firenze choose to die to let you live," Ronan weakly smiled, "and I think he choose the right one."
Chanse looked up at Ronan in shock, "You think he made the right decision?"
"That I do. I saved you in a dedication to Firenze."
"Saved me?"
"For the forest. After the curse was placed on your head I was the one who saved you from dying in there."
"You? You saved me?" Chanse gasped.
"Don't seem so shocked," Ronan chuckled, "Firenze wasn't the only one that had a soft spot for humans. I think all centaurs do it's just none of them act on it. Firenze was great not only because of who he was, but because he stepped outside of the box. He didn't do what everyone said and did. He did what was right to him...that's what makes anyone great. Human or centaur alike." Ronan smiled.
"But why did you feel saving me was right?"
"Because I knew you would pull this little stunt you're pulling." Ronan smirked.
"Stunt?"
"You're telling everyone that the reason you want to leave and be out in the world is so you can die happily," Ronan smiled, "but you're really doing it so people can live happily after you're gone. So they have memories of you happy with them, instead of memories of you sad with them."
Chanse looked down and smiled, "I do want that."
"That's why I saved you."
"Thank you." Chanse whispered as she slid off the bed and walked over to the window and looked over the stars once again.
Ronan turned around and watched Chanse, "Tell me, Chanse," Ronan whispered, "What do you hear?"
Chanse turned her head from side to side, very slowly, as she slowly became more conscious. She slowly opened her eyes to a dark ceiling, slightly lit up by the faint moonlight shining in through the large window. She turned her head to the right to see the window, and to get a better glimpse of the room she was in...back in the hospital.
She sighed as she turned to look back up at the ceiling. She brought her right hand up to her face and placed it halfway on her forehead and halfway on her right eye. When she didn't feel her skin touch her face she opened her eyes to see a piece of parchment in her hand. She opened her hand a little more and the parchment fluttered out of her hand and onto her chest.
She looked around the room a little to see if anyone was there, but the room was empty. 'Where's Oliver?' Chanse thought as she looked on either side of the bed for him. He was nowhere to be found. 'Maybe he stepped out for some food or a blanket...' Chanse told herself as she turned her attention back to the parchment.
She slowly reached down to it and picked it up. She pushed herself back against the headboard and sat up a little more. She rolled the parchment down and began to read what the parchment said:
Dear Chanse,
Madam Pomfrey said, well really demanded, that I not sit in the room with you while you sleep. So I'm sorry that when you woke I wasn't there holding your hand.
Chanse smiled, 'Oliver...' she thought.
Even though Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let me even sit in your room she did say that I could leave you this note. So since I'm not there to physically hold your hand...
Chanse unrolled the parchment more to find a trace of Oliver's hand and a little writing just below the trace of his hand.
Here's a trace of my hand, and it's in your hand, so that's the closest to having you wake and me holding your hand, that we're going to get.
I'm in the lobby, probably asleep. But when you wake, if you want, you can come wake me.
Oliver Wood.
Chanse couldn't help at laugh at the letter. 'He's such a hopeless romantic.' Chanse teased Oliver in her head as she laughed aloud.
"I should go wake him before he has a panic attack if I'm alright or not," Chanse chuckled as she pushed back her sheets. 'He probably already had one when I passed out in the Commons Room.' She sighed in her head as she stepped out of bed.
Her feet touched the cold marble, and then slowly Chanse stood up. She wrapped her arms around herself because of the coldness in the room. She walked over to her door and grabbed the doorknob. She slowly twisted and inched the door open, very carefully.
She peeked her head out of her room and looked to the right to she another large window, like the one in her room. She looked to the left and saw someone bundled up on the waiting room couch. They had a blanket curled all around them, which moved up and down with every breath that the person took.
'Good. Oliver's still there.' Chanse thought with a smiled as she made her way down the hall.
She got right next to the couch and was about to wake Oliver. "Miss Potter what are you doing out of bed?" a voice hissed in a whisper.
Chanse quickly turned around to find no one there. She looked around the room until she looked over at a desk where Madam Pomfrey was standing behind, with her hands on her hips. "Well?" Madam Pomfrey demanded again.
"Um...well..." Chanse tried to think of an excuse as to why she was out of bed.
"Well what?" Madam Pomfrey stepped out from behind her desk.
Chanse glanced over at Oliver, who hadn't moved, "Well I was coming to wake Oliver and tell him I'm alright..." Chanse's voice trailed off.
"You are not alright," Madam Pomfrey walked over to Chanse and put her hand on her back and led her back to her room. "Every time you leave this hospital you faint," she got Chanse back into her bed, "and with you dying and all that worries me." She tucked the covers around Chanse.
"Madam Pomfrey you don't have to worry about me." Chanse chuckled.
"I may not have to," Madam Pomfrey stopped tucking Chanse in and stared at her, "but I just do." She went around to all the machines around Chanse and checked them out.
"Madam Pomfrey you may worry about me because of who you are, but you don't have to."
"Chanse," Madam Pomfrey turned and looked at her, "I do worry about you. You're dying and that's what I worry about." She turned and adjusted a knob, "and until I feel I can stop worry, you are staying right here in this bed."
"What?!" Chanse sat up straight.
Madam Pomfrey glared over her shoulder at Chanse, as she continued messing with the knob, "You heard me."
"You can't do that!"
Madam Pomfrey turned all the way around, "I can and I will."
"No. I'm not staying here!" Chanse sat up in protest.
"Chanse you will not argue with me about this."
"About what?! My life?"
"Chanse this is something that neither one of us can control but I can help delay it."
"What about what I want, Madam Pomfrey? This is my life we're talking about. Don't you think I should be able to say what I'm going to do and not do?"
"Right now. At this point...No. I don't think you have that say."
"Over my life?"
"Yes. Over your life."
"Then who does? Huh? Who?"
"Me."
"I don't see how that's fair at all."
"Chanse you're staying in that bed, and that's final."
"Says you," Chanse muttered.
"Says everyone. No one wants you to die Chanse." Madam Pomfrey seemed to be pleading.
"You think I want to die?!" Chanse gasped, "I've just excepted the fact that I am! And no one has to know I'm going to die."
"But Chanse that time you never wake up again, everyone will know you're dead. Everyone will mourn and everyone will ask why."
"Why what?"
"Why did she die? Why couldn't she live longer? Why was the curse put on her? They're going to ask why to everything possible, and I want to be able to look them in the eyes and say we tried."
Chanse shook her head as she looked down at her sheets, "They're going to ask why. But most people will ask, did she," Chanse looked up at Madam Pomfrey, "Did she die happy?"
"And I'll look them in the eyes and say she survived longer."
"But they're asking did I die happily. Not if I survived longer. And in keeping me in this bed you'll have to look them in the eyes and tell them no."
"I will tell them yes," Madam Pomfrey said sternly.
"Then you will be lying to them. To their faces and eyes. You will be lying."
"I will most certainly not be."
"You will be," Chanse said calmly. "Because I'm telling you now, while I'm alive, that if I stay in this bed until I die then I will die unhappy."
"But you won't stay in that bed until you die."
"Until you stop worrying? Who knows when that will be."
"It could be soon. That's why you need to stay there."
"You're going to worry about me all the time, just like you worry about every student here all the time. But you don't keep them to a bed like you're doing me..."
"They don't have a curse on them that will kill them."
"Forget about the curse for a second," Chanse huffed. "Listen to me. Listen to the words that I'm saying...When I look out that window," Chanse pointed to the large window to her right, "during the day, I see everyone playing around and being happy." She turned and looked back at Madam Pomfrey. "I want to be happy before I die."
"And I'm saying that maybe if you stay in this bed long enough you won't die."
"I'm going to die Madam Pomfrey!" Chanse shouted, "Except it! I know I have, and I've excepted it." Chanse sighed, "That's why when I faint, I keep asking to leave, because I know that that's going to happen to me because I'm dying."
"But Chanse..."
"No. Listen." Chanse whispered, "You keep dwelling on this curse. You can't dwell on something you can't change, you have to find a way to change it towards your benefit." Chanse sighed, "That's why I keep going. Because I know I'm going to die. I don't want to. But I am."
"And I don't want you to die either Chanse."
"Exactly. And with you restricting me to this bed you're holding me down." Chanse pleaded. "I don't want to die having people know or even myself knowing I didn't try, or I was too scared, or that I died unhappy."
Madam Pomfrey opened her mouth to say something but closed it and looked down at the ground. "When I die I want to know and be known for trying..."
"And that's what I want. That's why I keeping you here. So you can try." Madam Pomfrey looked up at Chanse.
"Keeping me here isn't helping me try. It's making me unhappy, and more scared." Chanse whispered. "Because I sit here in this bed and think that maybe the next time I faint I won't wake up. That I won't see everyone's face again, and I won't have the chance to say goodbye. Or tell them I love them. Or thank them for all the great memories." Chanse sighed. "Because when I spend eternity watching everyone grow up I want to be able to look back at the memories I had with them. That's what will make me happy. Having memories with everyone." Chanse took a moment and stared at Madam Pomfrey.
"But Chanse the more memories you gain the quicker you die." Madam Pomfrey whispered.
"I don't care, and either will they. That's why I want to leave. I get my old memories back and I get new ones. And that's why I'm more scared sitting in this bed then I am out there getting memories. Because I'm out there, living. And that's all that matters to them. That I'm standing in front of them breathing and my heart's beating, and I'm living." Chanse paused as tears started to fill her eyes, "Because in that moment," she closed her eyes and then slowly opened them. "In that moment. All that matters is one thing," Chanse blinked her eyes and a single tear rolled down her right cheek. "I'm alive."
Madam Pomfrey stayed silent and just slightly nodded her head once and left the room, softly shutting the door behind her.
Chanse let out a quivering breath as she cupped both her hands over her mouth and nose. She took a quivering breath in and slowly blew it out as she wiped her tear from her cheek. As she wiped the tear she turned her face towards the window and opened her eyes slowly.
Her eyes locked on a bright star outside of the window. 'You need to read the stars for yourself, Chanse.' Firenze's words played over in Chanse's head as she stared at the lone star.
"I don't even know how to." Chanse whispered as if someone was in the room but the only response she got back was silence.
She stared at the star for a long time until she decided to move. She slowly gathered all her strength and silently pushed back her covers. She carefully crawled out of bed and placed her feet on the ground. When they touched the cold marble and she looked around to see if anyone was there...no one was.
She carefully walked over to the window and looked up into the night sky and saw more and more stars were coming out. 'How do I read the stars?' Chanse thought as she looked over each star, one by one.
Chanse placed her hand against the window and felt the coldness of the window against her palm. She looked over the stars again and still nothing happened. "Firenze," Chanse whispered as she continued looking around the stars. 'I can't do it.' Chanse thought as she slid her hand off of the glass and started to head back towards her bed.
"The cold one is dead," a faint voice sang.
Chanse stopped in her tracks and looked around, "Hello?"
"A war has broken out in the eastern world," a different faint voice sang.
"Who's there?" Chanse turned around and no one was there.
"To the south they have found a discovery," yet another faint voice sang.
Chanse turned around and saw all the stars starting to twinkle. "Is it you who is talking?" Chanse whispered as she walked back to the window.
The room fell silent as she got to the window.
"Was it you?" Chanse whispered, "Was it all of you singing?" She placed her hand on the window, "Was it all of you saying those things?"
In an instant thousands of voices started to sing different things at Chanse. She pulled her hand off the window hoping it would make them stop but it didn't. She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut. Nothing made the stars stop singing.
Chanse cupped her hands over her ears and started to whisper, "Stop it...stop it!" She said loudly, and just as quickly as they started singing they stopped. She slid her hands down from her ears and slowly looked up at the stars.
She flashed her eyes over each star and carefully listened to a little bit of the song they had to sing.
"I see you are reading them." A voice from behind said calmly.
Chanse jumped a little at the voice and turned around to see Ronan stepped out of the shadows, towards Chanse.
"Yes I am." Chanse nodded.
"So then you know that I read them wrong?" Ronan looked down in disappointment.
"I only know that because Firenze told me."
"Firenze?" Ronan looked back up, "But he's dead."
"That's what I said," Chanse chuckled. "He was in a dream of mine."
"Ah, yes," Ronan nodded. "Dreams are a way for the dead to communicate with the living."
"In my dream he told me to read the stars for myself because you had read them wrong."
"That I did," Ronan sighed. "Even though Firenze was one of the most disobedient of the centaurs of the forest, and the more wilder ones, he still was one of the wiser ones."
"I don't know what Firenze was like with other centaurs," Chanse walked over to her bed and sat down, "but to humans he was great. A great centaur and friend."
"That he was with other centaurs. Always looking out for the weaker kinds and things or that sort."
"He always looked out for humans. Even though centaurs don't like us he looked out for us." Chanse weakly smiled.
"Most centaurs thought Firenze was a fool for helping humans. Most thought humans were the reason why Firenze died, and most thought that humans should have paid for making us loose someone as great as Firenze."
Chanse looked down at her sheets and whispered, "Centaurs should blame a race because of one human."
"What are you talking about Chanse?"
"I remember when Firenze was killed. He died because of me." Chanse felt her heart clench but she continued to talk. "I remember seeing his blood on the ground."
"Chanse," Ronan whispered as he walked over to Chanse and placed his hands on her hands. "Firenze died to save someone that had more to her life."
"But now I'm going to die when Firenze could have lived many years." Chanse whispered as she looked up at Ronan.
"Don't blame yourself for Firenze's death. It wasn't your fault. Firenze choose to die to let you live," Ronan weakly smiled, "and I think he choose the right one."
Chanse looked up at Ronan in shock, "You think he made the right decision?"
"That I do. I saved you in a dedication to Firenze."
"Saved me?"
"For the forest. After the curse was placed on your head I was the one who saved you from dying in there."
"You? You saved me?" Chanse gasped.
"Don't seem so shocked," Ronan chuckled, "Firenze wasn't the only one that had a soft spot for humans. I think all centaurs do it's just none of them act on it. Firenze was great not only because of who he was, but because he stepped outside of the box. He didn't do what everyone said and did. He did what was right to him...that's what makes anyone great. Human or centaur alike." Ronan smiled.
"But why did you feel saving me was right?"
"Because I knew you would pull this little stunt you're pulling." Ronan smirked.
"Stunt?"
"You're telling everyone that the reason you want to leave and be out in the world is so you can die happily," Ronan smiled, "but you're really doing it so people can live happily after you're gone. So they have memories of you happy with them, instead of memories of you sad with them."
Chanse looked down and smiled, "I do want that."
"That's why I saved you."
"Thank you." Chanse whispered as she slid off the bed and walked over to the window and looked over the stars once again.
Ronan turned around and watched Chanse, "Tell me, Chanse," Ronan whispered, "What do you hear?"