Amber Waves - 30. Epilogue

AARON

“My fellow Astarans, it is with the greatest sorrow that I announce the death of Queen Amber, at 2:55 this morning.”
Read the speech. Look at the cameras. Do not cry.
Aaron walked numbly through the palace, barely acknowledging the people around him. Servants bowed. Lords offered their condolences. He accepted them without thought. Every action felt artificial.
He wasn’t the king of Astara. Aaron was a small boy. The world enveloped him, dark and terrifying. He couldn’t go on. Not without his mother.
The eastern dining room sat shut. Aaron set his hand on the brass door handle. Amber sat beyond, the queen of Astara. He was scared. How could he ever hope to be like her?
His hand fell.
“A light has been snuffed out. A warrior has been felled. And the world is darker for her absence.”
Read the speech. Look into the cameras. Do not cry.
Aaron stood before his office. Amber’s office. Her portrait still sat above the desk. He refused to let it be moved. It was childish, selfish. But once the painting entered the Hall of the Dead, his mother would be gone forever.
He turned his back. Walked away.
The mantle of Lynestra swept the floor behind Aaron. Its weight was fast becoming unbearable. He couldn’t stand to look at the cheerful colours. Tradition required him to honour the gods as the dead journeyed to their final resting place. For Queen Amber, the tradition would be adjusted. Lynestra received her due on the first day, to allow the deceased to say goodbye to the sun. Luminara followed as the moon bid the departed farewell. Tareth was next, their river bringing the soul to Zasar’s graveyard, where the lord of the dead would welcome her with a warm hug, and congratulations on a life well lived.
Aaron stood before the council chambers, watching Amber argue with Lord Sarin one last time. A bell tolled in the distance, each chime driving a spike through his heart. The sun was at its zenith.
A hand touched his shoulder. Aaron turned. Itumak looked at him, tears in the neko’s eyes. Aaron embraced his friend, holding him close.
“We do not fear death. Zasar awaits all with patient love. What we fear is loss. The loss that steals loved ones from us, that separates us until our own time comes. Until our time comes, we must walk the path of life, with a piece of our heart missing.
Read the speech. Look into the cameras.
He cried.

ITUMAK

He needed to walk. To clear his head. To manage the agony of seeing Aaron cry.
Glass shattered as Itumak passed Captain Darren’s apartment. The neko froze. His ears swivelled, listening for any sound, any hint that someone was trying to break in somewhere.
Itumak approached the door. He raised his hand to knock, then decided against it. Opening the door quietly, Itumak stepped inside.
Into a puddle of wine.
Captain Darren sat against the wall with his legs drawn into his chest. His face stopped Itumak’s heart. The captain never cried. Never showed any emotion.
Yet he was curled up among the remnants of a shattered bottle. Tears streamed down his face, A choked sob brought tears to Itumak’s own eyes.
We are ships adrift at sea, our paths crossing in the light. Buffeted in each other’s wakes, we offer support, but in the end we have our own fight.
Itumak pulled Captain Darren into his arms. The two held each other, mourning the loss of a woman who left waves.