The Final

Originally, this and the chapter after this were all going to be part of one chapter, but it became too large to be a single one. So, I hope you all enjoy. There's a line in this chapter that's pretty much came from Buffy. Try and find it. I'll give you a hint- in the show; it's said by another redhead, who (at the time) wants to kill everyone because her own lover was shot.

Disclaimer – I own Lizzie. All other characters I do not own.

Five years.

It had been five years.

Five years since she began to kill. Five years since she left Battleon. Five years since the accident.

Five years since her only reason for living had been cruelly ripped away from her.

She had not been lazy in these five years. No, she had been busy, slaying those terrible things, killing them day by day, and taking as many of their lives as she could, all in exchange for hers.

In her mind, it was simple. Why should those things have to live while she couldn't? Those horrid creatures didn't deserve to live, didn't deserve to walk the earth while the person who was ten times better than any one of them was, couldn't. She was bringing them to justice; that was all.

But to the rest of Lore, it was completely different. They had called her a murderer, a terrorist, a threat to Lore itself. She had been labelled worse, than the same people she used to hunt down. They had given her an alias- The Mourner.

Drakel everywhere would flee at the sound of the name. They had all run to the city of refuge, seeking protection from the mass murderer. Over the past five years, chances were that all those who hadn't been killed had moved to the city, resulting in almost all Drakel living in that one town. The city was full, overrun with the sheer amount of drakel moving to the city; it was something that even the humans themselves didn't think could happen.

"The Mourner hasn't attacked even remotely close to the city in all these years! Why would he attack now?" The drakel told their people. For the most part, everyone was satisfied with that statement, believing what they heard. Truth be told, they were just fooling themselves. All those who were high in power just wanted to solve the population influx, or rather, the problems that came with it.

Food shortages, water shortages, home shortages, and most importantly, gold shortages. There were simply not enough resources to support so many people, even in such a large city as this one. And even in the government that they had, there was an underlying feeling of insecurity, fear, and depression that was slowly seeping into the city.

Unbeknownst to them though, their troubles would soon be over- because The Mourner was coming to put them out of their misery.

Lizzie had been waiting for this day to come, ever since she became the Mourner.

She knew it would happen. She wanted it to happen. She watched and she waited. Every move she made, every life she had taken, they had all been carefully thought over. Well, the first part anyways. This had been Lizzie's goal from the start. And now, she had succeeded it.

All the drakel who she hadn't killed had, over the course of those five years, decided to move to the Refuge City. This would have happened anyways; so many drakel were already migrating to large cities like that one, where most of the money could be made. One day, the Drakels would have sent themselves the trouble of a huge population in a small space, one way or another. Doing what she had done, Lizzie had just sped up the process.

Lizzie sat, waiting. She didn't know what for; she just knew she had to wait. She was near the city now. All it would take was another portal, and Refuge City would be in her sights.

Lizzie thought as she sat. She thought about her life – her life before, and her life now. She thought of her family, and her friends. Most of all, she thought of Rayne. She was the person that Lizzie was doing this all for. It had taken a while for it to sink in that Rayne was dead, and that Lizzie wouldn't see her again. Once it had sunk in, it just made everything easier for the woman. Rayne was gone, and she wasn't coming back. So Lizzie was making sure that the drakel would be gone as well. And none of them would ever, EVER, come back.

With that thought, Lizzie stood up. Slowly, silently, she pulled on her armour, attaching all her weapons to her belt and back. Finally she pulled on her cloak, but only after fingering the threads of the two letters that were stitched into the white side – RA.

Pulling out her portal com, Lizzie twisted the knob, and punched in a few buttons. When the portal opened up, Lizzie took a deep breath, and stepped through.

With a familiar tingling sensation, Lizzie stepped out of the portal, finding herself inside the city in a dark alley. It was relatively quiet. Suddenly, a male drakel stepped out of the shadows.

He hissed something that Lizzie couldn't understand. All she knew was that it was hostile. Lizzie took a quick look at him. His clothes were ragged, and she could tell that he was bad off. It figured – there was bound to be poverty in an over-populated city, no matter what the race. He snarled again, raised a clenched fist, and brought it toward her.

His blow never hit, for Lizzie caught his hand before it ever made contact. The male gasped, and that was the last out of his mouth. Lizzie shoved him into the wall of the alley she was in with incredible strength. His head hit the wall, and Lizzie smirked cruelly as she heard the sickening crack. Holding him by the scruff of his neck against the wall, she reached into her belt and pulled something from it. With a flash of steel and a muted scream, that 'something' was protruding from the man's chest. With a few twists of her dagger for good measure, Lizzie pulled out the weapon. She wiped the blood covering it onto the corpse's dirtied clothes, before sheathing it again.

She felt the sacred staff almost pulse against her side. She ignored it though, and passed it immediately. She grasped the hilt of another weapon by her side. Pulling the sword out, Lizzie stared at the gleaming metal. It was light yet deadly, and sharp. It would fit perfectly for what she was planning to do. Checking to make sure the drakel was dead one last time; she sheathed her sword, and slunk off further into the alley. She would make her move, but not here. It was too empty. She could see only a few people passing the entrance. No, she was going to make her attack, but when she did, she would make sure that it would be known. And how else to make it known, but to attack the busiest part of town?

She crept along in the darkness, until she reached the hub of activity – the very middle of Refuge City. From her darkened alley, she could see them all. Some were chatting with others, some were walking around. Some were simply sitting in groups, conversing in their strange, savage language. From every aspect, they looked almost human. But they weren't; they were monsters, atrocities. They were wastes of space. Many things had changed about the way Lizzie acted and thought, but this one thought never did-

Why should those things deserve to live, while her lover was dead?

If that question would be asked to someone else, they would probably have no answer. To them, that would mean that there would be no reason to kill. But Lizzie wasn't someone else. Someone else wouldn't know how she felt; someone else wouldn't see her logic.

But there was no more time to waste, thinking these thoughts. For now, there was a more important matter to attend to- how many drakel she could kill.

Lizzie walked backwards in the alley, retracing the steps that she had taken. Lizzie had always prided herself on her speed and agility. She was always one of the fastest Guardians, second only to few when she was in service. The enemy would try and land a few hits, but they would usually fail as she quickly avoided them. It helped as well that she had trained once or twice with the other Elizabeth, the one who trained the ninjas. Her speed came in handy now, as she quickly scaled up the wall and landed atop the building with ease.

She stared down at the many drakel, before moving back a few metres or so. Turning again to face the crowds that couldn't see her, she quietly unsheathed her sword. Her hands were steady as she held it in front of her. With a last deep breath, Lizzie ran as fast as she could. At the last moment, she leapt off of the rooftop. Her momentum had gotten her far enough so that she went a distance instead of falling straight off of the building. This would have been a death wish for anyone who tried it, but not for The Mourner. This was all part of her plan, but still, it was the one part where everything could go wrong.

As she began to close in on the ground, people began to notice the black blur. Especially the group of drakel that it seemed to be heading towards. They stared quizzically at it, and that was the last thing that any of them saw for the next moment, all of their heads had been cleanly cut off of their bodies. The corpses fell to the ground, and precisely at that moment, The Mourner fell on them, before bouncing back up, her sword still at the ready. It was dead silent, and then someone screamed. "Mourner!"

All hell - and a bloodthirsty smirk on the Mourner's face- broke loose. People were yelling, screaming, pushing and shoving as they tried to run. It didn't help them- for this, too, was part of her plan.

The Mourner made her way through the crowds, her sword out and flinging. With every swing, she brought down another drakel.

One stared at her as she advanced towards him.

"No please spare-"

Thud

The drakel's body fell to the floor oozing out a bloody mess. The Mourner simply stared waiting for another attack. This time it came from behind but the mourner was quick and jabbed the creature through its heart. She could hear the soft damp squelch as she removed her sword from the dying body. Staring down at it, she sheathed her sword and grabbed the axe that was strapped onto her back instead.

Looking up from the corpse, The Mourner saw them. They were all marching towards her, an army of trained drakel soldiers. Their blue-gray armour and weapons gleamed menacingly. A large male drakel shouted something, and they all began to charge at her. The Mourner's grip on her axe tightened, her eyes narrowed, and she shifted her stance. They would be trickier to handle than the innocent, but easy enough.

They surround her bearing weapons of spears and swords. The Mourner wielded her axe with two hands and started hacking at the army. One by one they fell as their bloody limbs dropped to the ground causing it to become even damper than before.

She heard a low muttering from behind as she turned two spears flung at her head. She ducked and the spears landed into the skull of a drakel soldier. She watched as its eyes crossed and its body fell onto the earth. Another solider came at her with a sword but The Mourner jumped and landed gracefully onto the hilt of the blade, then diced the creature's body in two. Realizing they didn't stand a chance the drakel soldier were slowly backing away but The Mourner still attacked unmercifully, picking them off one by one.

The Mourner was beginning to break into a sweat now. Slashing and hacking her way through the innocent and the trained, she must have killed hundreds at the least by now. Yet still, more came. Gritting her teeth, the Mourner pulled another drakel towards her after disarming him, slicing off his head immediately. Another came close behind her, rising his sword above his head. The Mourner crouched low to the ground and swung her leg out, tripping him and two others. Moving back up, she raised the axe and swung it down upon one of the tripped soldiers, relishing the anguished cry that that one made. Pulling the bloody axe out of the corpse, she repeated her motion on the second drakel. The third was already dead- his sword had gone flying, and landed in the un-guarded space between his head and chest.

The Mourner attached the axe back onto her back, and then pulled out the dagger she had used earlier plus another from her belt. The army closed in once again, and another came at her. He was bigger than the other soldiers and burlier too. He was without armour, and probably had tougher skin, but the Mourner knew that he would come down just as easy as the others, if not easier. Raising her arms and weapons, she darted forwards and slashed at his jugular. Blood poured out of his neck as she moved onto the others.

She slashed their necks (just as she had done to the large drakel) sometimes stabbing the armour-less in the heart while cutting their throats. The carnage continued, and the Mourner began to kill automatically, hundreds dying as her mind stayed blank; felling person after person without batting an eye.

Eventually, the Mourner began irritated. She gritted her teeth; she had taken out plenty of civilians and soldiers, yet more still kept coming. Grabbing a soldier that tried to attack her, she twisted his head violently to the side, snapping his neck in a single swift movement.

There was a momentary pause in the battle. The Mourner's eyes scanned the land, counting how many felled bodies there were by now. It was a rough guess, but there had to be over three hundred corpses from soldiers alone; added up to the masses of townspeople, it must have been at least six hundred.

A shot disturbed the Mourner from her calculations. Looking to where it came from, she saw hundreds of more drakel soldiers, each armed with a gun.

The Mourner's breath hitched. Memories of pain shot into her mind, but she forced them down. The drakel all lined up in a row, each one aiming for her. The Mourner sheathed her bloody dagger, and reached for the chain around her neck. Pulling it off of her head, she wrapped it around her wrist, holding the ring between her thumb and forefinger.

The leader of the Drakels shouted something, and the soldiers raised their guns to fire. He shouted something again. Almost simultaneously they all shot at her. The Mourner let the ring fall into her palm, and then wrapped her hand around it, squeezing the piece of jewellery lightly. The gem, a cross of 

amethyst and chocolate brown seemed to glow in her fist. A translucent shield surrounded the Mourner.

The bullets that hit the shield bounced off of it, ricocheting back to where they came from. They flew round the battlefield, piercing through armour and flesh, either killing the shooters instantly, or injuring them enough that they would surely have a slow death.

When all the drakel gunmen were down, The Mourner let her shield drop. She resisted the urge to sneer from underneath her cloak. Now they all knew. They all knew what it felt like; they had all felt Rayne's pain.

After that, things became blurry and slurred once again. The exact details, exactly what she did, she could barely remember. All she recalled was going after the rest of the troops, killing all that she could. And when the 'army' was dead, she went back to the civilians, those who had foolishly kept running the streets in terror. They all died at her hand, and she didn't care.

The city was quiet now. The sounds of battle and the thundering sound of crowds running were gone, replaced with an eerie silence.

Then, she heard it.

It was low at first, but it increased steadily in both pitch and volume. It was a bloodcurdling howl, and it sent shivers up The Mourner's spine for two reasons.

One: It was so haunting and inhuman in the way it was emitted. It was mournful, terrified and enraged all at the same time. She had only heard something like that once before, in her Guardian days, when they all had to return to Rayne's hometown. It had come from a 'wild' drakel, at finding its family slain. She had been told that even the civilized lizard people were capable of a scream like that, yet only when something truly terrible had happened.

Two: The yell was quite loud, meaning that whoever made the sound would have had to have been close, even with the echoing that the lack of everyday noise caused. She was sure that by now, the few drakel left who had some sort of a (working) brain in their heads would have shut their mouths and tried to hide from her. That would mean someone else would have come to the city. But nobody in their right minds would come now...

Except for a single group.

"Damnit." The mourner muttered. This wasn't part of her plan. She should have realized this would happen; but she was stupid, and she forgot all about them.

The Mourner dashed into a building, the door left hanging wide open from its occupants rushed escape. She ran up the two floors on the stairs, until she reached the top floor. Leaping out an open window and onto the roof, she climbed up to the highest point. While not the tallest building in the Refuge city, it would serve her purpose.

The Mourner stared down at the roads below her. They were littered with bodies; some missing body parts, some lying in pools of blood, some with their limbs twisted into grotesque positions. Everything was still. Then, in the corner of her eyes, she saw movement. Looking at it directly, she saw that it was a person. Whether it was a drakel or a human, she couldn't tell. All she knew was that they were from the squad hunting for her- the green cloak said it all.

Suddenly, that person was joined by a group of people. One turned and stared directly at her. The Mourner cursed under her breath. That, she knew for sure, was a drakel. They had better eyesight than humans; only slightly, but it was enough for them to see that she was not part of the building.

As they all began to run toward her, the Mourner jumped off of the building roof, and onto the next one; she would deal with them later. Right now, she had to finish the whole ordeal with the Refuge city- all the drakel who thought they had gotten away with their lives, all the dead drakel who were now sprawled on the streets, every single thing that had to do with them here- once and for all.

She leapt from rooftop to rooftop, as the group followed her from the streets. Some time had passed, and the Mourner still had not been able to shake them. She gritted her teeth together in irritation, then jumped off of the roof (landing catlike on her feet) into an alley. Within a moment, she began to run again.

Left, right, forwards, backwards. Across the bloodstained street, down another cadaver-littered path, she weaved her way through the maze of alleys and roads. Jump a fence here, climb a wall there. Eventually, with much persistence, she managed to lose the group as she hid in the shadow of a building. Panting, the Mourner struggled to catch her breath. Even in the top health that she was in, the chase added in with the fight, had given her quite the workout.

She rested her hand against the door of the building that she was hiding by. She almost fell over as she accidentally pushed it open. Usually, it wouldn't have mattered- many doors, just like the one earlier, had been left open. It was normal, considering everybody had been trying (literally) to run from their death.

However, nothing was normal about the sounds that were coming from inside that building – shuffling, clanking, thudding, and the occasional muted yell.

That would mean that someone was inside.

The Mourner pulled out her blade, and crept inside. There was a long hallway, leading to yet another door. She opened it to see that there was a stone staircase, leading to presumably below ground. With her sword still out, she slowly made her way down. An occasional lamp lit her way, but otherwise, she was in almost complete darkness.

The stairs continued on for the longest time. The Mourner didn't know how long she had been going down them now. All she knew was that it was a considerable period of time; the steps seemed to go on forever. It was when she finally thought about turning back, that the staircase finally ended, and she was at a slightly ajar door. Looking through the crack, she saw a drakel.

Her grip on her sword tightened instantly. She was ready to throw open the door and kill it; however, his mumbles stopped her from doing just that.

"I must finish this..." He muttered, his back towards her. "The Mourner will come soon, no doubt about that..."

There was a click, and a ringing noise as he banged whatever he was tinkering with against a table he sat at. "That Mourner won't get me though...not with this." He let out a crazed, triumphant laugh, and turned around in his chair. In his hands, he held a small firearm.

It wasn't the new gun that stunned the Mourner, though. It was the drakel. His face...she couldn't ever forget that face.

The scientist began to panic, and dropped his gun. "I-it was an accident! I swear!" He yelled. Lizzie looked up at him. She stared at the drakel, the face of the man who killed her Rayne forever imprinted in her mind.

The Mourner's vision went red, and she burst through the door. The scientist jumped up, gasping in surprise and horror. He raised the hand with the gun, aiming to shoot. The Mourner was too fast though, and before he could even get a proper aim she pulled a dagger from her belt, flinging it with a flick of her wrist at him. He cried out as the dagger hit his arm, causing him to drop the gun. It flew out of his hand, and slid across the ground toward the Mourner. She kicked it to the side of the room, not before welding the barrel shut with magic.

"You." She growled. The drakel whimpered, blood pouring freely down his wrist and hand; the dagger had managed to give him a deep gash.

"Don't hurt me." He pleaded, cradling his injured arm with his good one. "What have I ever done to deserve this?"

"You've done it all." The Mourner hissed, striding over and grabbing the scientist by the collar of his coat, lifting him up with ease; he was rather small by drakel standards.

"Wh-what do you mean?" He stammered eyes wide with fear and confusion.

"It's all your fault." She said, shaking him roughly.

"What is?" He asked, woozy from pain and being shaken so hard. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

The Mourner dropped him carelessly on the ground. She chuckled, the sound sinister and disbelieving to the scientist's ears. "You've done everything."

"You're the reason why all of your people have been dying. You are the reason why virtually the entire drakel race has been, or will be, wiped out."

"How can this be my fault?!" He cried, trying to shake away his dizziness. "It wasn't me that killed them! You did!"

"But you're the reason why I began to kill them in the first place." She replied, staring down at him coldly. "Because you killed her."

He flinched. "You've got the wrong person; I didn't kill anyone."

"Don't lie to me." The Mourner snarled. "I see right through that lie. You still remember it, don't you? Because I still do. I'll never forget." She grabbed him again, picked up the dagger that still lay beside him, and dragged him to his feet, her grasp even rougher than before.

"It was five years ago. In the town of Battleon." Her fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger and gripped it even tighter. "You killed someone. A woman. A Guardian."

"You killed her. You shot her; the person who meant the most to me, gone, ripped away from me, from everyone, too early." She stabbed the dagger into his wound.

"It's all. Your. Fault." With every pause, the Mourner twisted the dagger, and with every twist, the scientist let out a harsh, rough grasp. With a final twist, she pulled out the weapon, blood gushing out of it now that there was nothing to obstruct its way.

"Please..." He begged. "I don't deserve this...I don't deserve to die..."

"You don't deserve this?" The Mourner laughed a cruel, cold, almost maniacal laugh. "Oh no, dear sir, you deserve every bit of this, and more."

The Mourner placed the razor sharp tip of the dagger against the scientist's wrist, placing pressure upon the weapon and slowly dragging it up the drakel's arm, leaving a trail of sliced cloth and skin in its wake, both quickly turning a crimson red.

"You definitely deserve to die." She said to him over the sickening slicing sound and his screams of pain. She switched to his other arm, drawing another gruesome line of fabric and flesh, talking all the while.

"Because you took away my only reason for living. Because..." She trailed off, and her hand stilled as she held the dagger still at his shoulder.

"The only thing I really had left, were the moments- just moments- when Rayne would look at me, and I was wonderful. But thanks to you..." Her hand shook, and the Mourner bowed her head. "Thanks to you..." She muttered, "That will never, happen, AGAIN!" She roared the last word, and the drakel let out a blood curling scream as The Mourner plunged her weapon deep between his shoulder and neck.

Blood dripped down onto the floor, running down his arms. Every second, drops of blood would rhythmically hit the floor, every tiny splash counting each precious second of his life slipping away.

"I'll never see her face again. I'll never make her roll her eyes again. I'll never hug her or kiss her lips again. I'll never hear her laugh, cry, or moan again." The Mourner stated. With every ting she lifted, she would slash the scientist's body everywhere, except for his head and torso.

"I'll never see her smile again." The Mourner shook, as the dagger rose and fell, embedding itself within the space between his other shoulder and neck.

"It's all these reasons and more, why I haven't killed you yet." She said. The drakel opened his eyes with difficulty, looking at her confused. The Mourner saw this and smirked. "She went through so much pain in her life. Even before she died, she was hurt by your bullet."

She eyed a gun that was sitting on a table in the room. It was of the same style of that gun she saw on that tragic day five years ago. She glanced down at the drakel on the floor, a puddle of blood forming around his body.

"Perhaps you could tell me the pain you feel from being shot." She remarked, drawing a finger up the barrel. The metal was cool against her fingertip, and the scientist's eyes widened.

"But no." The Mourner took her hand away. "You won't know the pain. Because I refuse to ever use one of your filthy weapons. Besides…" She raised the dagger, examining it casually, the hilt and the blood gleaming in the torchlight. "You can't go wrong with good old sharpened steel."

The Mourner brought her hand down, stabbing him in the stomach. She stabbed him multiple times, and with each attack he let out a scream. When she was done, The Mourner stepped back and examined her work.

The scientist was almost completely covered in his own blood. There were the lines of red on his arms, and the places near his shoulders where she had cut. His stomach was bleeding, and his legs were sprawled in an impossible position. He flailed whenever he was attacked; once, he actually managed to ram himself into the chair, causing an audible crack that came from his leg.

The scientist's eyes had turned into slits, and he was near dead thanks to the pain and blood loss. Gazing down at his pitiful form, The Mourner decided it was time to put an end to his misery.

The Mourner leaned down, and picked him up, pulling him close to her face.

"You deserve a lifetime of pain for what you've done." She whispered. "But your body can't handle anymore, can it? And that's just a shame; if it could, I'd be hurting you even more than I already have."

She dropped him for the last time. Silently, she contemplated on her weapon. Her daggers, while trusty, were overused. She wiped the blood off of the one she had out, and sheathed it. An axe, while effective, would be too fast. Too clean.

A sword...it was a good choice, but even though it would be an ironic and perfect end, she didn't think that this drakel deserved death by her lover's signature weapon.

Signature weapon.

She had forgotten about the fourth weapon, the only weapon that she carried around that hadn't been in battle in all her years of being The Mourner.

Slowly, The Mourner reached to her hip. It sat in its place, attached to her belt. She could send it away at will, but she kept it with her so it would remind her of what she was killing for. It was small, only because she hadn't extended it to its full length. Beneath her fingerless gloves, she could feel it throbbing. She pulled it out of its place for the first time in ages.

It had been a brilliant shade of white once, the colour of pure light, radiating with a holy aura. Over the years of killing, it had lost its brilliance and the aura surrounding it had grown dim. But now… now, it had suddenly regained its shine, looking as pure and pristine as the day she had found out about it, and realized her feelings for Rayne.

Without a spoken word, the staff extended to its full length, about her height. It was odd; every year she grew and used the staff, it grew along with her, always matching her height at the time.

Keeping her gaze trained on the scientist, she twirled the staff like a baton in the fingers of her left hand. With one hand, she easily picked him up. Almost all his life force had been drained from him now, but still, he struggled to get away. The Mourner had him sit up almost straight against her at her feet, his back towards her. She slid the staff underneath his chin, and with a swift movement, pressed the staff lengthwise at his throat, pressing him into it with her knee at the same time.

The drakel gave a little gasp, and once again tried to struggle against it. The Mourner just pushed him harder into it.

The drakel's breathing became shallow, and he weakly raised a hand up to try and pull the staff away. He couldn't manage it though, because a moment later, his eyes rolled into the back of his head, as he gave a last, valiant struggle. With all his remaining strength, he managed to jar The Mourner slightly, causing her hood to fall off.

It was Lizzie, not The Mourner who killed the drakel who murdered Rayne Anasi.

A moment later, the drakel slumped forward and stopped all movement. As Lizzie stared upon the corpse, she felt her body relax for the first time in the longest while. She would have to leave now, she thought. Now that there was only one more thing she had to do.

And without a second glance, Lizzie turned around and pulled on the hood of her cloak. She slowly walked up the stone staircase and out of the room, back onto the streets. And she walked right out of the city just as she had done so many times before.

But unlike all those other times, she turned around. She held her palm out in front of her, and chanted words underneath her breath. As she reached the middle of her incantation, the group of drakel and humans came back into sight.

"THERE SHE IS!" One of them yelled. The Mourner paid them no mind, and continued on with her spell. The hunters began to run at her. And when they finally reached the woman, she said the last word of her spell. A small ball of fire appeared in her pals, and it shot out, growing larger and larger until it almost engulfed all of them.

There was a last bright flash of light, and the group stared on in shock. The entire of Main Street was on fire, and it was quickly spreading to all the other buildings.

After a while, one of the broke out of their stupor went those few final steps forward and grabbed at her arm.

The Mourner didn't respond.

Hesitantly, another person came forward and grasped her other arm.

The Mourner didn't break away

She didn't even try to resist.

She just stared down the street, watching the city of refuge be painted a bright scarlet.

As the final safe haven began to burn down into ashes, everybody there realized something.

The Mourner's end had finally come.

Hope you all enjoyed. Please review; I enjoy getting feedback, especially on this story.