Fallen Angel

Epilogue: The End of a Dream

One week later…

 The wind whispered through the trees, breathing life into the branches. The leaves answered to winds call, bending and swaying in response. A few green leaves, too weak to remain attached to the branches, released themselves into the wind, allowing it to carry them to places unknown. The breeze brought them close to the ground, tempting them with rest on the soft field of grass. A few gave in, falling and skidding to a halt on the verdant ground. Others remained on with the wind, letting it push them onto a gravestone which impeded the wind’s progress.

 Some landed atop a soft bundle of yellow marigolds and pure white lilies which rested on the grass in front of the marble gravestone. A hand gently brushed the leaves away from the flowers. It then traced the letters on the stone, as if to soak in their meaning through the fingertips. The gravestone read:

 “Here lies Ethan Myore, a warrior who gave his life for his country, a loved son, and a dear friend. His memory lives on forever in the hearts of those who knew him.”

 The hand stopped before it could reach the dates that stated when he was born and when he passed away. It then returned to the side of its owner: a young woman of eighteen in a brown military uniform, bearing the scars of battle. Leira’s eyes lingered on her deceased comrade’s gravestone, soaking it all in.  

"You won’t believe the things I’ve seen on this journey, Ethan.” As usual, she was met with nothing but the wind’s soft whisper. He did not respond, but maybe her words reached him in whatever realm his soul resided.

 “All this time, I hardened myself against any emotions. All I felt was rage, ever since you left. I think I’ve changed, for the better now. I’m the Leira you used to know. I’ve learned to open up again. Thanks, for all you taught me. It came in handy. If Cora’s with you, tell her ‘hello’ for Kyle and me.”

 She stood up from her kneeling position, brushing off the grass that clinged to her knees. She was ready to move on. She was prepared to face anything else fate threw her way. The scar on her arm burned less with such optimistic thoughts. And she could no longer remain in the graveyard, thinking of the past. The future was all that would fill her mind. Besides, she had somewhere to be, and she couldn’t keep them waiting forever.

 She turned away from the gravestone. “Farewell, Ethan,” she whispered, and slowly walked away from her old friend.

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Leira stood at attention on the small, makeshift wooden stage erected in the central plaza. Her hands were folded in front of her. She stood as straight as a board. Kyle stood beside her in a similar position. Both soldier’s eyes were illuminated with joy.

 The sun peeked out from behind puffy white clouds, which seemed to be forced away by the sun’s warming rays. It filled the town with light. Spectators watching the stage, mostly soldiers, seemed to bask in the comforting glow. Some were wounded greatly, but still struggled to come. Others were in perfect condition, getting away with only minor scratches. None wore their scars as proudly as Leira.

 Several other soldiers stood beside Leira and Kyle, forming an arch on the platform. General Kardon stood in between them all, a proud gleam in his eyes. The success of his soldiers was his top priority, and they made him immensely joyous.

 “I am here with you all today, to celebrate our wondrous victory against the foes that have tortured us for centuries. Our ancestors fought, our parents fought, and finally we have won. All participants in this battle deserve much praise for their efforts. But there are those who fought more bravely than any of us could have. For this, we award them.”