Author's Note: Sorry I didn't update for a few days, I've just been sooooo busy. :3 Hearts, Kittie

The battle was over. The cries of wounded men had faded, and the clashes of steel on steel no longer filled the air. The smell of blood was thick. Jo'Hanna's hands were sticky with the crimson liquid, both her own and her enemies'.

At her back, Lexia's breathing was hard. The blind girl was tired. She had fought strongly, better than anything on the practice fields.

Then, out of nowhere, the terrible flash of steel. A man leapt from the ground in a final, desperate attempt. His sword wavered in his bloody hands, but it met its mark.

Lexi didn't cry out. She didn't scream.

Horror filled Jo. Blade whirling, the man's head fell to the ground. Lexi sank to her knees.

Above, a raven called.

Jo felt the terrible, horrible knowing in the back of her throat. Redness seeped across Lexia's chest. Her eyes were open, but the life in them was fading. Fading fast.

Lexi's terrible, dead eyes were the last thing Jo saw.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Jo screamed, sitting up in bed. Her eyes flew to the place Lexi's bed should have been, half expecting it to be there. Lexi would get up and sit beside her and stroke her hair softly, humming a lullaby. Things would be—

No.

The bed wasn't there.

Beside her, Tristan stirred, rolling over. His sandy curls fell over his eyes, and a faint smile was on his face. He looked like an angel, laying there in the darkness, his chiseled features gentle and relaxed.

Jo sighed and kissed his cheek softly, getting out of bed. She slipped her tunic over her head, before leaving the room and closing the door gently behind her.

She didn't recall choosing to go there, but her feet led her to Lexi's grave. It was the same as always, the little gravestone marker bearing the same words, the spelled red rose still lying peacefully across the mound. It would bloom forever.

Jo didn't feel the tears coming anymore. She felt a sort of peace, a deep, satisfied, peaceful resting. Lexia may have been dead, but she was never truly gone. She lived on in the hearts of her friends. Jo had come to accept this.

She pictured Lexi's smile in her mind, pictured the way she would flick her hair over her shoulder, the way she would slowly blink her sightless eyes.

"I miss you," Jo told her softly. "Are you happy?"

The wind blew Jo's hair back, and Jo smiled. The breeze whispered through the grave markers.

Yes.

Feeling strangely comforted, Jo left the graveyard. Dawn was beginning to break, the sun beginning to shed the day's first rays. Tristan would be up soon, and wondering where she was.

The warrior apprentice smiled.

For a flickering moment, beyond the sea and the clouds and and Hope itself, a girl named Alexia smiled back. Her image glittered in the sun's rays.

Jo blinked, and she was gone.

Or maybe that was just Jo's imagination.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

Shay hit the ground hard, face stinging. Vanir tried to reach her, but Lifaen cut him off. The sadness is the older elf's eyes were clear, and Vanir looked away.

"What have you done with her!" Arya asked.

Shay coughed blood onto the ground, before looking up to meet the livid princess's gaze. She stood up shakily.

Arya cracked her knuckles, before slamming them into Shay's stomach. Shay doubled over again. Vanir cringed. Shay felt his mind probing hers, trying to take the pain. She pushed him away as she vomited more blood onto the ground.

"Such rage is unlike you, Arya," Vanir said bravely, trying to divert the princess's wrath from Shay.

Arya's eyes flashed. "Such insolence and familiarity is also unlike you, Vanir of the House of Haldthin."

Vanir set his jaw defiantly, fixing Arya with one of the looks he had given Shay so often – a mixture of disdain, pity, and amusement.

Shay could tell the haughty look upon Vanir's face was fake. He had given her that same look so many times, she had it memorized. There was fear hidden under this façade.

Arya's hands clenched into fists. "You have released my prisoner. For that you share her sentence. Lifaen, Nári, bind them."

With apologetic glances at both of them, Lifaen helped Shay to her feet. She was shoved against Vanir.

The elf man looked at her tenderly, all traces of the scorn gone. Shay smiled softly at him, a slow, sad smile.

"Shouldn't we allow them vigil?" Lifaen suggested softly.

Arya gave him a look of disbelief. "So someone else may release them?" she shook her head. "No. They die now."

Shay and Vanir were tied back to back, a half-burned tree between them.

"Your ashes will be mixed with those of the forest," Arya told them.

Shay noticed Nári slipping away, but she said nothing. The elf nodded to her.

"You will share the fate Lily doomed Ellesméra to," Arya continued. "May your cries echo with those of the forest for all of eternity."

Shay reached out to Vanir. He let her in instantly.

I'm sorry, she said truthfully. I got you into this.

Vanir hesitated. You did. But I allowed it.

This is it, then.

I suppose. But whatever you do, do not scream.

Shay closed her eyes as tears began to fall. I'm afraid.

I am too, Vanir agreed. But courage is not the absence of fear.

Shay felt strangely calm. Afraid, yes. But calm, nonetheless. She was going to die. But she was going to die with the feeling of Vanir in her mind, and with Hope in her heart.

"Have you any final sayings?" Arya asked.

Shay took a deep breath. "Yes. Tell Rune to be strong, and keep up her fencing practice. Tell Súndavar that he can have Bane, as long as he promises to take good care of him. Give Eragon a kiss on the cheek from me, and thank Oromis for a lovely dance, at Rune's party."

"Vanir?"

"I have only one saying, and it is for Shay's ears alone."

"As you wish."

Vanir touched Shay's mind again. He said no words, but the feeling was clear.

Lust, hope, anger, annoyance, fear, belief. Love.

They all piled into Shay's mind at once, shocking her. He drew away instantly, leaving her confused and joyful. She wanted to turn to him, touch his face, sink into his embrace forever. But she couldn't.

"That taken care of," Arya continued, taking a deep breath "Bris—"

"Arya!"

The elf princess broke off, turning to the sound of the call.

Rune, Súndavar, and Eragon, and Islanzadí watched. Nári stood near them.

Rune ran forwards, falling at Arya's feet. "Your anger is righteous," she said. "They have taken from you the murderer of the forest." She looked up to meet Arya's eyes. "But Arya-vira, I beg of you. Spare them."

Arya looked at her, pursing her lips. Her eyes flew to Eragon, then Súndavar. Finally they settled on her mother.

"Do you step in to spare them?"

Islanzadí looked at her daughter sadly. "We shall see. You must do what you think is right."

Arya looked at the hopeful faces around her. Lifaen, Nári, Shay, Vanir, the Queen, and the Riders. And Rune, who still knelt, pleading for their lives.

"My rage has surpassed my common sense," she admitted. It was not an apology, merely a recognition of the wrong. "They shall not die for their crime. Lifaen, release them."

The elf moved to comply.

Shay flew into Vanir's arms the instant she was released. He stiffened instantly, as if appalled. She met his eyes, and he gave in to her embrace, a tiny smile crossing his features.

Arya helped Rune to her feet. The younger princess met her eyes squarely. There was no scorn in them, only sadness. She knew what was coming next.

"Your lives are spared," Arya said strongly. "But not your positions. Shay Everwood of Aberon, Vanir of the House of Haldthin, from here into eternity you are banished from Du Weldenvarden."