When the enemy began to retreat, Amdireth fell to her knees, coming back to herself. Yes, they'd won. But how many lives had it cost? How much blood had been spilt onto this field that might have given forth life? Kiarton---and so many others---might have had families and lives ahead of them, and now those chances were shattered.
She buried her face in her hands and wept.

Hiranneth took Kiran's hands and held onto them tightly, hoping it was not some dream and that it really was over. She didn't notice much of the ending battle around them. An Wraith ran by and cursed her name, but was taken down by an arrow far off in the garrison tower.
A low hum was heard and the Elves cheered and began to sing of victory. Hiranneth looked up and saw the darkened figures of Elves returning from far off in the battle field. Their silhouettes were a great sight to see.
She then turned to Kiran and said, "Let us go unto the victors. I want to see my friends." Little did she remember that dear Kiarton had died in the heat of the battle, and could not be brought back.

Kiran nodded and stood, helping Hiranneth up as well. He studied the lands around them, littered with the dead.
We won, but at such a great price. Not far away, he saw Kiarton's body. He bowed his head, fresh tears coming to his eyes. "I am honored to fight beside you," he heard the echo of Kiarton's voice on the wind.

Hiranneth saw Kiarton's body lying amongst countless others. But his body was more peaceful and almost looked as if it glowed. Her hands shook as she and Kiran walked slowly toward him. His blood was dark and deep and his hands still held onto his weapon like an always ready warrior. She leaned down and prayed while placing her hands on his. She looked up through a cloud of tears and noticed Amdireth weeping not far off. Hiranneth walked slowly toward her and took her in her arms. Amdireth shook as if startled by her, but began to sob harder when she saw her face.
Hiranneth held her close and said, "It is alright. For the lives of many, more will live in peace."

Amdireth leaned into Hiranneth's embrace as she cried. "But I sometimes feel that it's all in vain!" she said between sobs. "Almost everyone I've ever known or loved has been murdered. Why must there be so much suffering in this world?" She looked around at the fallen warriors that surrounded them, lives that would never be lived, that had been cut short by Death's sweeping blade. "But if we have grasped peace, then their lives were given well."

Ahéawan pulled herself away from the body of Kiarton and fell into Leeum's arms. For the first time in so long, as she buried her face in the Elf's shoulder, the battle coming to an end around them, Ahéawan felt that she was finally at rest. Her lifelong thirst for bloodshed and battle had finally ceased. Hot tears burned in her eyes, and she willingly let them fall. Neither Leeum nor Ahéawan said anything, but an unspoken feeling coursed through both of them: It is over. It is finally over.

Leeum took Ahéawan closer to him and let her cry. He looked over at Hiranneth and Amdireth. Hiranneth was bringing Amdireth to her feet to head to Hunvel again. She glanced at Leeum, nodded, and walked off.
Leeum pulled Ahéawan's hot, tear stricken face from his shoulder and looked into her sad eyes. With his soft Elven hands he caught a tear and smiled softly at her. "Shall we go? Hunvel celebrates and mourns in this time." He noticed a group of Elves dressed in black walking in a long line toward the fallen Kiarton. They whispered softly a traditional blessing upon the body and picked him up slowly. They seemed to carry him like a cloud and slowly they disappeared into the crowds.

Kiran followed the Elves carrying Kiarton through the crowds. When they saw him, they stopped the procession. Kiran looked at his friend, peaceful and serene in death. Something had called to him, made him follow the Elves. He remembered something that had not seemed so important until now. Kiarton had always worn a vial around his neck. Kiran had seen it once, a vial of dark liquid.
He reached over now and gently took the vial on its string from around Kiarton's head. He saw that Hiranneth and Amdireth had followed him. He placed the vial in Amdireth's hand.

Amdireth gasped as the cool, glass vial slid into her hand. "He showed this to me before. It took the form of my father speaking to me." She looked at Kiarton's pallid face. "I never got to thank him for it; that last moment I had of him."

Ahéawan walked slowly back to Hunvel, Leeum at her side, their hands joined as they went. The two of them followed in the wake of the Elves ahead who carried the body of Kiarton solemnly. The whole assembly around them was filled with the sounds of mourning and rejoicing. Like the mixed voices of the Elves, Ahéawan's mind was a tumult of emotions. She knew, however, that in time her heart would calm and the pains of the day would fade. For now, she just walked on, feeling the warmth of Leeum's strong hand in hers.

Just then a high Elf who had a bandage over his arm came to Hiranneth and her companions. The Elves grew quiet in there victories, for now important things were to be discussed.
"Hiranneth, daughter of our own hearts," he said as he bowed his head to her, "the prophesies of old have been fulfilled and a new age has dawned on this good earth." Hiranneth held Amdireth closer to her side as he spoke; she was afraid.
Three Elves dressed in silver came from beyond the crowd bearing gifts. "We cannot ever repay you for your sacrifice," the high Elf said as the Elves joined his side with their gifts.

One of the Elves in silver stepped forward. She stood taller than Kiran, and bowed her head to speak to him, her light eyes staring into his own.
"For you, Kiran," she said, holding up a book. It was old and bound in beaten blue leather, bearing the device of a star on the front and closed with a bronze latch. "Within these pages is this history of our people and the history of yours as well. Tell your tale here that others may read it. The words will never fade from these pages."
Kiran took the book with trembling hands and bowed low. "Thank you," he said.

Ahéawan watched in wonder as another older female Elf dressed in silver approached. Her eyes were full of experience and sadness, much as Ahéawan knew her own must look. The Elf smiled with her sad eyes, saying nothing, and held out her hand.
Nestled in the palm of the Elf's dainty hand was a necklace made of brown leather and beaded with small, black beads. The necklace was old and rather plain looking, but Ahéawan felt tears begin to spill out of her eyes, tears of wonder, shock, grief, and remembrance.
The Elf motioned for Ahéawan to take the necklace. She did so hesitantly, grasping the leather ever so gently for fear that at her touch the vision might dissolve. She felt the beads gingerly, remembering each subtle scratch and feature that were carved into the black stone. She closed her eyes, trying to blink back the memories that now flooded her mind as quickly as her tears flooded her eyes.
Against all the impossibilities, Ahéawan was sure that this was her necklace, the very one she had torn from her neck that fateful day nearly nine years ago and lain alongside her dead husband. She was so sure that the necklace had met its final resting place on that battlefield, that she would never see it again, so how had it come to these Elves? How did they know? These and a thousand other questions flew into Ahéawan's mind as she closer inspected her beads, hardly seeing them through her tears, but she knew every crevice in those beads by heart.
The wonder on her face showed as she looked up into the old Elf's eyes. The elderly she-Elf just smiled in her sad sort of way, and Ahéawan somehow understood. Matters of time and space are no match for matters of the heart.
Spilling more tears onto her face, Ahéawan grasped the Elf's frail hands. "Thank you," she whispered, their sad eyes meeting. "Thank you so much."

Amdireth frowned as an Elf came forward with her gift. "I need no gift," she said. "Seeing my friends alive is enough."

Despite her protests, the Elf placed a worn roll of leather into Amdireth's hands. Closer inspection revealed it was a beautiful map, much like the one that Hiranneth said had led her to Hunvel so long ago. "We know of your intentions to wander the land," said the Elf, "but may you carry this map with you, if you ever wish to return to Hunvel." Amdireth smiled gratefully and thanked the Elf, silently wondering how they knew she wished to leave Hunvel when the battle was over.

Though no gift was presented to Leeum, an elderly Elf stepped forward and greeted Leeum with approving eyes. "Though your past haunts you, you have proven your wisdom beyond your shame. You will always be welcome to call Hunvel your home."

Leeum let a tear escape his eyes as the Elf stepped back into the crowd. He squeezed Ahéawan's hand tightly and they shared a warm embrace.

Hiranneth felt her emotions suddenly come over her. Her eyes clouded in tears.
A Elf of incredible beauty came before Hiranneth and bowed to her. Silently she lifted her pale hands up toward her and revealed through feather soft hands what looked like a pile of beads and jewels. Hiranneth gently took it up, observing it looked like a head dress.
"What is this?" she asked.
The high Elf said loudly unto everyone, "We crown you Hiranneth, Lady of Hunvel and our people!"
The Elf stood up and took the crown head dress from Hiranneth's hands and put it softly on her head. It cascaded onto her hair and framed her ears. Then another Elf dressed her in a royal cloak. It was fine and beautiful, just like the one her mother made for her on her birthday. She began to cry and turned to the host of Elves. They all cheered and chanted Elven songs to her. The people she cared most to see were Amdireth, Ahéawan, Leeum, and Kiran, all smiling up at her.

Kiran watched as Hiranneth was crowned and the cheers from the crowd as they saw her before them rang in his ears. For a moment after that, he saw nothing but the light of the Elves in her eyes and heard only the cheers of all in the crowd.
Suddenly, overcome by his love for Hiranneth, Kiran knelt before her and took her hand into his. "Hiranneth, daughter of Elves and men alike," he said, unaware the crowd had stopped their cheers to hear him, "would you be my wife, that we may spend our lives together?"

Hiranneth was in a daze as Kiran took her hand. She felt too young for such a moment, only sixteen, but in her heart she knew it was time.
"Of course I will, dear Kiran. May we be blessed unto our dying day." She lifted his chin up to look at her and smiled. "Days of new are to come and the light of our kin will reach past all darkness. This I decree unto our generations' last days."

As Ahéawan watched the two young lovers before her, a faint smile was brought to her face. The hurt, anger, and loneliness that she had felt for so long were stilled in her heart, and once again she felt that recently familiar feeling that all was as it should be. Her three young friends before her, Leeum's strong hand in hers, and the gathering of Elven friends around her made her feel one thing strongly above all others: she was home.

The End