As promised, here is the second and last part. I hope you'll enjoy it, comments are always appreciated.
-Bronzie
The children were three and six years old now and had grown to be quite beautiful. But, of course, it was in a parent's nature to find their own children beautiful and adorable. The parents tried their hardest not to let their pride and joy know of their plans to find Timore or anything at all related to the family's history and the endless hunt for clues, for they wanted the childlike idyll to be preserved for as long as it was in their power to do so.
"They will have enough time to learn about all of those things when they're older," Hope insisted every time her husband demanded they tell them sooner rather than later. "What will they care for a pointless hunt around the world at such a young age?"
And Arthur let the topic go for the time being. He knew the intentions of his wife full and well, but the children would have better chances of understanding… no, he would support his wife until he could support her no longer.
"Darling," he pulled her aside one evening, after the children had long been tucked into bed. "I can't help but think about how we do not have much time left."
"Oh, Arthur, I've been having the same thoughts myself," she admitted. "There is so much to do, so much to say-"
"All will be well," Arthur cut her off with four calm words and kissed her on the lips gently. "We can make it through this and more together."
"We've come so far."
/
2001
The room that had been so peaceful before was now filled with six enraged Cahills, demanding important information they thought Hope and Arthur possessed.
"We have no clue," Hope tried to convince them, but they wouldn't buy it.
"You'd better hand it over, Vesper," Eisenhower Holt spat.
"Leave our property," Arthur demanded sternly, but none of them listened.
"You evil snake," Hope hissed at Isabel. "You brought them here."
Amy, confused by the commotion, wandered out of her bedroom and into the centre of it all.
"What is this on your pyjamas?" Isabel asked, fake sweetness in her voice as she picked up the fragile little girl.
"Koalas!" Amy proudly remembered the name of the animal on her shirt.
"Is that so?" Isabel looked to Hope. "From… Australia?" She was now gripping the poor little girl tightly so that her mother fretted and did what any mother would do.
"Put my child down, Cobra," she hissed through gritted teeth. "Let her be."
Isabel eased her grip on Amy and set her down, a wicked smile on her face. "You will never need to talk to me again after tonight," she sneered and left the room to do god knows what.
"Are you alright, dear?" Hope rushed over to the child and kneeled down to look her in the eyes. "Are you hurt?"
Amy shook her head hastily, but her eyes were wide. "Mummy, why are all these people here?"
"I'll… I'll tell them to leave," she answered, and then, in a louder voice, she said to the Cahills: "Leave my house this instant."
Irina Spasky, a Russian former KGB agent, nodded respectfully and backed out of the front door, which, Hope thought, most likely had to do with her own family issues caused by Isabel. That's one less to worry about.
Suddenly every angry Cahill in the room turned silent, as if an unseen person had covered their mouths, preventing them from speech. The room suddenly became several degrees warmer and only when she turned to her husband, she found him missing and a rapidly spreading fire in his place.
"Arthur!" she shouted as the Cahills ran out of the house like the cowardly dogs they were. "Arthur!"
"Hope!" she heard a response in the adjoining room and ran in immediately. "Hope, are you hurt?"
"No, no, are you?"
"No…" he trailed off, hectically searching through papers on his desk.
"What is it you're looking for?" she asked in a too calm voice, considering the circumstances. She was suddenly hit by reality again when her hand got caught in a tongue of fire.
Arthur said to her something she took to mean she should get the children to safety, but she couldn't hear properly. The only thing she could hear was the blood rushing and her heart pumping at the surreality of the situation.
Little Dan had come out of his room, confused by the happenings and Hope instantly swooped down and picked him up. She took Amy in her other arm and ran out the door with them, placing them on the moist grass.
Without a second thought, she rushed back into the burning house. Her own life was not her first thought, the only thing she could think of, was her Arthur whom she loved so dearly. She coughed upon inhaling the smoke, but she ignored it as far as it was possible.
"Arthur?" she called out and was relieved to hear him shout her name, and his voice gave her hope.
She darted through the flames and ignored how scorched her clothes were. In his study she found him waiting, surrounded by fire to no escape, but despite all that, he wore a sad smile on his handsome face and had his arms spread wide, welcoming her. She ran through the fire that was keeping her husband bondage and embraced him for what looked to be the last time.
"This is it," she breathed and looked deeply into his eyes. "This is where it ends."
"Not yet," he whispered back.
"What do you mean?"
"We're going," he started.
"To Timore," they said in unison and they intertwined their hands and stayed that way for as long as they lived, which was, to be pretty exact, only a few seconds longer.
When the flames had engulfed them, she whispered to him: I love you. And he whispered back: I love you too.
And that is where this tragedy ends, one tale is told, but many a tale is still to be discovered.