Begin

Tears tasted like memories: bitter.

That was the single thought on his mind. It was the only thought on his mind. If he allowed any other thought into his mind, it would be a memory. It would be bitter. He was tired of bitterness. He wanted to move past it.

He focused his attention on maintaining that thought. He set his muscles to stabbing at the ground beneath his feet. He concentrated on his job of turning over another spadeful of earth, then on dumping it to one side. His mound of earth grew another few inches.

He blinked, ignored the moisture burning in his eyes, and tried to continue his task.

It was impossible to ignore the salty bitterness that raced down his cheek and entered his mouth. The taste washed over his tongue. His focus scattered. He cursed himself, but was unable to suppress the recollection that forced itself upon his mind.

Their first meal together. She had prepared a steak, just for him, along with a cooked vegetable spread. At first he had simply taken a bite to satisfy her request. Then he'd stayed to enjoy the feast after her work had exploded across his tongue. The steak was tender. The seasoning perfect… The company stellar.

He slammed the floodgates shut, trying to hold the tide of saltwater at bay. Tears leaked past his eyelids and drew lines down his cheeks anyway. He didn't want to remember. It was too bitter.

He couldn't help but remember.

It all came back to him. The pleasant curve of her face. The scent of her hair. The warmness of her cheeks. The sound of her voice… the taste of her lips. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to experience it all over again.

But it was not to be. It never would be again.

She had caught him with a meal, then tamed him with her company. She had touched a part of him that had laid buried for years. A part that he had denied still existed. For a fleeting moment, he had allowed himself to hope for a future.

But not now. Never again. It was not to be.

More tears flowed. More salt invaded his mouth. More memories pressed against his mind.

He cried. He wept. He tasted the bitterness of recollection. He grieved.

He calmed. He moved on. He continued his task.

Eventually, he finished. No, not finished. His work had just begun.

He didn't want to continue. He wanted to stop now. He was tired of this bitter experience. He wanted nothing more than to go back, and experience the sweetness of their time together once more.

That was impossible. He forced himself on.

His stomach turned. His throat became sour. He ignored the quiver of his hands.

His actions were reversed. Stab the mound of dirt. Gather a shovelful. Pour it into the hole. Ignore the pain of lost memories.

At length. He finished.

No one would ever know. The thought burned against his brain, bringing more sorrow and grief. She had fallen here, and she was to be forgotten here. No one would know of her sacrifice. She had died that he might live. Her grave would go unmarked. Unremembered.

No. He would remember. He would not forget. No matter how bitter the memory, no matter how sour the pain. He would not forget her. She was too special for that. He could not ignore what she had done for him.

With that silent vow. He stepped back, surveying his handiwork and offering one final prayer for the peace of her soul.

Then, he turned and left.

This was his curse. He would live with this bitterness. He would remember her for as long as he lived.

He was Raven. He would not forget Rebecca.

End

A.N.: Short, but sweet. I was really afraid to try and lengthen this, so I left it as it was. I realize its been a while, but out of nowhere I got the drive to finish this, and so I figured that I might as well.

I may actually have the next book Phoenix of Pharae up in the next month or so, but I can't promise anything.