Timber

Chapter Sixty-Seven: Epilogue

Spice and fire permeated the twilight air. Somber expressions were bathed in the orange glow of countless candles. The gentle light in their grasp brought a warm contrast to the mournful attire of District Seven's residents. Soft sniffles and a low murmur of whispers filled the crowded corridors of the Mayor's Manor.

Hazel and her family gathered around Silus' casket, staring down at him one last time. Fern clung to Oren as tears trickled down both of their cheeks. Rowan stared lock-jawed at his older brother while he held Silus's axe and a pair of leather gloves. Sage hugged a clay pot that contained a vibrant sapling, along with a large book tucked under his arm.

Mayor Kettleberry let out a dry cough as he addressed the gathering, "Though we wish it were different, life is a temporary donation. One, we are all lent, and one, we must all repay. Tonight, again, we give back what was generously lent to us. We return our son to the Earth from which he came." The mayor paused, gaze sweeping over the family huddled around the casket. He tilted his head, his eyes full of somber understanding as he continued. "As we send Silus on to the forever forest, let us not dwell on his loss, but let us give thanks for the gift of his life."

Hazel shook her head and bit down hard on her lip, holding back a derisive grunt. Giving Silus back was the last thing she wanted to do. She would gladly trade anything to change her reality. She could almost hear Cedar's imploring to accept the mayor's words.

Mayor Kettleberry's eyes crinkled and glittered as he held out his open palm to Rowan. Rowan shuffled forward, extending Silus's axe to the older man. Mayor Kettleberry took it from him while whispering in his ear. Rowan's lip quivered as he nodded and stepped back.

The mayor lifted Silus' axe with both hands, presenting it to the people as his voice grew, "From childhood, our people are taught to live off of and respect our land. Knowing that one day we too shall merge with the forest that sustains us daily." Approaching Silus's casket, he laid the axe in his grasp. "May Silus flourish in the eternal forest, amongst those who preceded him, until the day we are all joined once more."

The older man pulled away from the casket and bent toward the family, "When you are ready."

One by one, they paid their respects. Along with whispered words and touches, each left a token within his casket. Oren left a worn wooden toy train from Silus' childhood. Fern, a loaf of his favorite rye bread. Rowan set in a pair of leather gloves. Lily, a bouquet of deep yellow sunflowers. Linden laid one of his drawings of Silus chopping wood in the forest. Sage sighed as he dropped in one of his favorite books about butterflies. Silus had stayed up many nights reading from it when Sage was just a little boy. Sage's fingers lingered over the cover, his bright, young eyes watering before he finally pulled away.

As the last of her family moved to make space for her, the air grew hot and thick. It was time. Time to let him go forever. Hazel drew in a breath so deep that her ribs bulged against her crutches. Flickering candle heat warmed Hazel's face as the atmosphere cooled with the setting sun. She was chewing her lip until it was on the verge of breaking open. Better blood than more tears. As she took her turn at the casket, it was almost as if her feet had minds of their own. They carried her toward the inevitability she didn't want to face.

In her hand the Victor's medal was heavy as a log. Leo's presence loomed, and he murmured a warning in her ear, "Do you really think that is a good idea?"

An unsettling tickle in the back of her mind warned her about giving away the medal. But at that moment, she didn't care.

"What about the Capitol?" He continued to question softly.

Under her breath, she responded without removing her stare from the casket, "If they've got something to say to me about it, they can tell me themselves." Instead of leaving cryptic notes and gifts like some creepy scavenger hunt. And whatever prize was at the end of it, she didn't want it. I've had enough of Capitol rewards. Leo murmured something unintelligible but offered no further argument.