cascade | kotlc

Epilogue

There are some things

June shielded her eyes as she stepped toward the Leapmaster, nodding at Fitz as the blue light shimmered from the descending chandelier. Faye stood beside them at attention, brushing her gold-blue hair from her brows.

too hard to accept

"The Wanderling Woods," they whisper in unison, and the spiraling thread fell, swinging momentarily like a pendulum before it haltened to a stop. The edge shimmered like a knife.

There are some things

Fitz's arm tightened around her and she held tighter to Faye's hand, feeling the sweat gathering in the girl's palm. She bit her lips nervously as she fumbled with her green-leaf dress, tossing her ponytail from her face.

too hard to name

The light leap is cold, like a blizzard, but they make it through, and sunshine blasts them with a sweltering blaze of heat. The whispering of wind through the Wanderlings echoes around them, soft and eerie.

But there are also some things

"Ready?" Fitz mumbles to her. "I hope this isn't too hard for you."

She shook her head. "I was here already. This- this is just a reunion. You're here by me now. Faye's here. That's all the difference I need."

that bring joy

bring victory

bring hope

Fitz's Wanderling still blooms, the magnificent sequoia, skimming the skies with its towering trunk. Its leaves are immaculately green and its fruits are still perfectly teal, just like she remembered.

These things

"Make this quick," Faye mumbled, her eyes trained on her shoes.

June nodded. "Just give me a moment."

"If you say so."

are omnipresent in life

She kneeled before the tree. The silver charm she'd planted there days ago still glimmered with its brightness, still reflective like the moon. She traced her thumb over the circle and felt the cool metal.

These things

"I wish... I wish I can join you forever," she whispered, phrasing it as a statement, a promise, a desire, a hope.

The tree sways, listening to her.

are what we live for

She fished the new charm from her pocket. Not a circle this time, but a straight segment, resembling an l. The edges curled inward like the ends of a pickaxe, the weeds of a thorn shriveling in.

are they not?

"Grow well, my tree," she told the Wanderling, and with her words a new round of fruits blossomed, popping out and forming the spherical berries, popping and crackling as they bursted from the lush leaves.

I wish

"I'm done," she told Fitz and Faye, walking back toward them, before her knees buckled and she needed to take their hands. When Fitz leaned over her with concern, she waved him away. "I'm fine."

we could live

without these things

but that is not the meaning of life