Walking slowly down the silent streets, tears ran unchecked down Maerad's cheeks. Exactly what she had dreaded the most had come to pass. The volunteers, the people who had chosen to fight, she might one day have been able to forgive herself for that. But this…
Maerad knelt down next to the body she had been seeking. Averting her eyes from the arrow wound in her brother's throat, Maerad leant down and kissed his forehead, seeing tears fall onto it. She knelt with him for a long time, mourning the loss of this spark of life, so bright, before finally standing and turning to survey the thousands of bodies around her. How many of these had siblings? she wondered.
Sharma had forced the battle into this village. Carrying two had made Imi slow - Maerad had refused to leave her brother's body on the battlefield to become lost and anonymous. When Imi had been killed, she was forced to leave her brother and continue fighting on foot.
After wiping the blood away from a 5-inch long cut on her thigh, Maerad leant down and gently stroked her beautiful horse's neck. Silvia was still in Innail; whilst Malgorn had been one of the last to fall. The Hulls had fallen too, disintegrating into a pile of dusty bones.
Finally, Maerad saw movement. She hurried closer and saw it was an old man, not a Bard, at least 80.
"There are so few people left," the man told her, as she approached. His voice was frail, but Maerad could see evidence of past strength in his face. "I've seen less people than I can count on one hand. Are you looking for anybody?"
"Yes," Maerad replied. "You won't know who I mean." The man nodded, then knelt down to hold the hand of an old woman. Maerad thought it must be his wife.
Turning, Maerad walked on, through the almost deserted streets. No more that a dozen or so people could still be alive out of this whole town. At one point, Maerad stopped to comfort a middle-aged woman, and she bled to death in her arms.
But still she could not find Cadvan.
She walked until her feet were aching, before finally allowed herself a short rest. She sat down on the ground and allowed her tears to flow freely again, aching inside at all of this death. When her tears had stopped, she looked next to her to see a girl of no more than six lying on the ground next to her. Maerad covered her mouth in horror, before seeing that the girl was still clutching a small rag doll. How could anybody murder such a young child? she wondered. She was so innocent and small. Maerad gently pulled the doll out of the girl's hands and held it around the middle with one hand.
Once more she went to search for Cadvan. Before the battle, he had told her he loved her. She had kissed him in response, but before she could reply to his words they had had to split up. She hadn't even had the luxury of a reply.
Maerad froze. That man, lying next to the wall so still, that wasn't…that couldn't be Cadvan. Could it? She crept forward, her eyes wide with fear, holding the doll from one arm in her hand.
She got close enough to the body to see that it wasn't Cadvan, and stopped. It was beginning to grow dark now. Maerad had been searching for hours, but still no sign. By nightfall, the few survivors had left to go to the next village, no more than half a day's walk away. Maerad refused to go, refused to give up. Maybe he was injured; unconscious and unable to reply to the many shouts made.
"If only I knew," Maerad whispered as the rain began. She huddled against a wall with her knees up, watching smoke curl into the sky from various buildings on fire. Had anyone been watching, they would have been unable to distinguish her tears from the unceasing rain drvingin down on her.
"I never got a chance to say," she began, her voice breaking, "I love you Cadvan."
Ardina's words echoed in her mind, sending her deeper into despair; "No power, not even love, can overcome the ban against return."
"I hope you don't need to return," Maerad murmured. "By the Light, Cadvan…I hope you're still here." She clutched the child's doll to her chest and wept for all that she had lost, and for the agony of not knowing.
Aww…:'( That was depressing. I will have to find something more cheerful to write next time.
That quote was "My teddy bear is the only thing I can hold." Or, indeed, this is also similar, but I dodn't find it until after I'd written this: "Teddies don't hug back, but sometimes they're all you've got."