Disclaimer:  No, sadly, I did not suddenly get to own everything overnight.  This all belongs to Mercedes Lackey, except for the characters, which have told me in no uncertain terms that I'm stuck with them.

You guys probably will kill me over this chapter.  It's just an epilogue, really.  A couple of paragraphs, no more, and a chance to respond to reviews on my Companion point of view.

Tenshi:  :D Well, I like it better this way, anyway.  I hope it was good and sad, it was meant to be depressing.

Fireblade:  Well, you probably won't like what's coming next.  –Herald cringes-  Don't kill me, please.

Breezefire:  Thanks, although I liked the beginning of that chapter the best.  It showed how she was so happy, and then, well, it went bad.

Vaches:  Thanks!  I'm glad you enjoyed my little wallow in angst.

Wizard:  Thanks.  The third part should be interesting.

Ok guys, here we go, this is the end.  At this point, Sunia is barely conscious and basically broken past repair.  She won't live too long after that, I'm afraid, although Marit has a chance to live.  Marit, also, is so much in pain as to be nearly dead.  He is still watching Sunia being led away. 

Don't worry, I'll be as nice to them as I can, given the situation.  I even tried to make the ending have a slight tinge of happiness to it, in a skewed way.

Chapter 3: Epilogue

Sunia was in a state that few had ever seen a Companion in.  Her coat looked dry and brittle, her eyes dead, with all of hell trapped inside them.

She bore no resemblance at all to the cheerful creature that had departed on her Call only half a moon ago, Varen thought, with more regret than he knew how to express aloud.

They would be hard pressed to get her to the Grove without her collapsing, Varen mused dispassionately, his cold thought covering his despair at seeing Sunia brought so low.

Her name seemed now a hideous irony, a joke played on her by some malevolent god or higher being.

As they reached the temple, Sunia, head down, twigs snarled in her mane and tail, walked towards the temple in the Grove.

Although she obviously needed physical support, they were not allowed to give it to her.  She had to take these final steps on her own.  She lay down inside the shrine, head drooping.

Varen and Taver stepped forwards together, Taver as the highest ranked Companion present, and Varen as the closest to Sunia.

Together, they spoke the ritual mantra of respect and farewell.

:May you find the peace you have been denied.  In not in this life, then in the next.: Taver intoned calmly.

Varen's Mindvoice almost shattered, and nobody present could deny the depths of his sorrow.

:And may we all someday meet again.:

As one, the Companions felt the grief-wracked core that was Sunia dim and fade, and then she was gone, through the mercy and power of the Temple, as surely as though she had never been.

As one, they bowed their heads in respect to her passing and a moment of silence grasped the Grove in its clutches.

Marit knew of her passing, knew within the depths of his own body as he would have known his own death, so deeply were they yet tied together, even after the severing of the Bond.

When the Companions, heads still bent in sorrow, gathered in groups of twos and threes back in the Field, they found a pitiful bundle of humanity waiting for them.

Marit was unaware of anything around him, so completely was he lost in his own sorrow.  Being a simple Karsite farmer, he had never been taught the techniques of grounding and centering that all Gifted Valdemarans learned. 

In his grief, even the rudimentary centering that his own body had imposed left him, leaving him utterly without focus, lost in an eternity of his own pain, unable to break free of it.

When the Companions saw him, they knew instantly what had happened.

Taver, endowed with all the wisdom and memories of centuries of Monarch's Own Companions, recalled the story of Vanyel Ashkevron.  After losing himself to his pain in such a way, he had eventually recovered, but only with the help of his Companion, Yfandes.  Without Sunia, Marit stood almost no chance of recovering.  Still, he was one of them, or had been, and they owed him their help.

:We must call a Healer.:  Taver said to the others.

They each reached out to their Chosen, sending the situation in a wordless burst of communication.

Within moments, a MindHealer and a Trainee who was presumably working with her bustled up to the Companions.

"Alright, let's have a look.  Don't worry, we'll soon sort him out."

She was using her Healing Voice, Taver noticed, which was not good.  The cheerful, light voice that Healers used to reassure people that everything was going to be fine when, in fact, they really had no idea.  The meaningless phrases meant to give comfort, but which always seemed to fall flat.

The woman looked so thin and birdlike that Taver wouldn't have thought her capable of lifting a loaded dinner plate, let alone a patient the size of Marit, so he stepped forward, indicating with his head and the slightest hint of telepathic projection that she should place Marit on Taver's back.

Taver could feel Marit's pain at being atop a Companion again.  After all, to a foreigner, they all looked very alike, and so soon after Sunia's death, it must have been unbearable for Marit to be this close to another Companion.

Of course, it was imperative that they get him to the House of Healing, and Taver tried to remember this as he struggled to barricade his mind from Marit's fear strikes, filled with compassion for the pain so strong that it nearly overwhelmed even the legendary shields of a Companion with it's power.

When they finally got him into a room, Taver could sense the team of MindHealers already shaking their heads as they exerted their Gifts to assess the situation.  Taver left them to their business, knowing that his presence, even mentally, would only make matters worse.

"What do you think?"  One of the MindHealers asked the birdlike woman who had gone to fetch Marit.  "Can he be Healed?"

"We could bring him out of it, maybe, but he would never be whole in mind again.  I doubt if this bond breaking has been put into practice that often, and I believe the Heralds underestimated the damage it would do to Marit's mind.  He has no real reason to live anymore."

One of the Trainees asked quietly "Is this one of the ones we cannot save?"

The Healers looked at each other sadly.  It was one of the last lessons taught to a Healer.  What do you do with the ones that are too far gone for your help?

"Let us allow him to rest in dignity.  There is nothing for him here, now, and his Companion doubtless awaits him in the Havens."

Far away, in Companion's Field, dozens of Companions turned to face the Grove, as if pulled by an invisible string.  Far away, the Death Bell began to cry in it's somber tones, ringing the peals that told of a Herald dead.

:He wasn't a Trainee.:  Varen said in wonder.

:He was Chosen.  That makes him one of us.:  Taver corrected gently.

:Sunia would have liked that.:

:Yes, she would have.: