Terra: Part II Epilogue
By Mintbaby
It was a silent and somber group gathered that day in Thamasa. They watched as Clyde and Relm Arrowny made their way forward, placing a bouquet of pale flowers by the headstone newly erected beside that of General Leo. The occupant, Strago Magus, would be greatly missed.
“Good-bye, grandfather.”
Relm had seemed to age an entire decade by the passing of the old man, and each time one of the group retold a story of their previous traveling days a flash of pain darkened her eyes. She had long since excused herself from the others, retreating to sit at the foot of a tree behind the large house where she had once been trapped by fire. Her grandfather had gone against the rules of the mayor and attempted to use magic to save her. When that hadn’t worked, he’d actually gone into the still burning building to find and rescue her…
Relm covered her face with her hands and hunched over, pushing away the loneliness that she felt at his sudden absence.
A footstep made her straighten suddenly, wiping the tears from her face as she attempted to blink them away. It was Sabin. She looked away, staring at the ground at her feet as she kicked at a pebble with the toe of her black slipper. He silently sat beside her.
When he didn’t say anything, she cast him a sidelong glance. “What.”
“Nothing,” he said softly.
She looked away again, the silence annoying her. Every one of the Thamasa residents had offered their “heartfelt condolences” or their “sincerest apologies” about her grandfather’s death. Sabin had been the only one, besides Edgar and Terra, who hadn’t offered such bland words of comfort. Now, with him just sitting beside her, she could feel a fresh onslaught of tears. It was as if his mere presence was acting as an invitation to vent.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered in a choked voice.
He nodded silently, lifting his head just enough to squint off into the distance. “I know.”
Her throat constricted a little more and she sniffled, clenching her hands into fists. “I… I’m just so mad at him,” she cried as she turned to face Sabin. “Why did he have to go? Why did he have to die now that everything was going to be different? I had my father! We could have told stories of my mother! We could have been a family!”
Sabin nodded again, dropping his eyes to the pebbled ground at his feet. He picked one up and threw it. It clinked off a tree. “Yep.” His voice was still quiet.
Relm turned away again, wiping the tears from her cheeks and not caring they were replaced with twice as many as before. “He left, Sabin, and he’d told me that he’d never do that. He promised I wouldn’t be alone. Ever.”
“I’d be angry too.”
"Damn right I'm angry," she seethed. Relm took up a fistful of small pebbles and tossed them at the nearest tree. Every one of them missed. Her throat tightened, wrestling with the tears that so desperately wished to be free. "The first time I actually admit that I want him to be around and that's when he decides to die! It isn't fair!"
"Nope. He should have known better."
That statement made her stop, her anger dissipating like the air from a punctured balloon. Relm took in a deep breath, felt amazingly less overwhelmed, and was immediately bombarded with guilt for what she’d said. She sent Sabin another sidelong glance, but he was still squinting at a distant tree. “Well... I guess I’m not really alone.”
He shrugged and picked up another pebble. “No. I guess not.”
“After all, I’ve got my father now. And you guys,” Relm quickly added.
Sabin nodded, almost grudgingly, and turned to hand her the pebble. Their eyes met. “That’s true.”
Relm took the pebble and looked toward the tree he’d first pelted. She tossed the rock and nearly hit the same spot. She smiled slightly and released a deep breath. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to leave me.”
“No. Probably not.”
Relm looked down at the satin ribbon on her black slippers and released another deep breath, a tear caressing her cheek to drop to the pale ground at her feet. “I’m going to miss the old fuddy-duddy.”
Sabin caught her gaze and his eyes held understanding and compassion. “Yeah. Me too.”
Relm closed her eyes then, fighting against the torrential waves of anguish that threatened to drown her. Afraid to face them alone, she turned toward Sabin suddenly and buried her face in his chest as the grief-filled sobs escaped her soul. Sabin gazed down at the weeping girl for a long moment before folding one arm protectively around her, the other moving to tenderly stroke her hair.
<The End>
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