A bouquet of white lilacs were laid in front of Natalie Mcbeef’s gravestone, though no one heard the whispered words of the cloaked woman who delivered them. She had stood in front of the grave in the rain with her head hung low, her face hidden beneath the heavy cowl.
Roen stared at the gravestone, the name etched there, and the numbers below it that marked the length of the Miqo’te’s life. Her former mentor’s life had been cut untimely short, but there was no doubt in the paladin’s mind that Natalie had lived every moment to the fullest. Drawing upon her own memories, Roen knew of some of those moments--some filled with tenderness, yes, but many of pain, anger, and violence.
Until the last few suns, Roen had tried to push thoughts of Natalie out of her mind. Her death had come while she was trying to hunt down someone Roen held dear; it had also been Natalie who had been responsible for so many tears, and so much suffering before that.
And yet...
The paladin could not forget the tender moments they had shared, the quietly-spoken words of trust and understanding, nor the smiles or small moments of laughter between them. Now that she stood before the Miqo’te’s grave, Roen knew that she did not want to remember her former mentor as she was in the last of her days. She did not want to remember her as an enemy. She wanted to remember her as a friend, a confidant, and her mentor who swore her into the Order of the Sultansworn. Natalie had accepted her despite her heritage, and also helped to clear both her name and that of Gharen’s from wanted charges as traitor and terrorist.
“I forgive you,†Roen finally said. “I forgive you for all the things that you did and all the things that happened. I cannot forgive you for him, nor for those whose lives you took. But I no longer hold hatred for you. I hope you found peace and clarity in the end, or after, wherever you may be.â€
Roen knelt before the gravestone, laying the pendant of Nald’thal next to the lilacs. She stayed only a moment before she rose, turned, and disappeared into the storm.
Roen stared at the gravestone, the name etched there, and the numbers below it that marked the length of the Miqo’te’s life. Her former mentor’s life had been cut untimely short, but there was no doubt in the paladin’s mind that Natalie had lived every moment to the fullest. Drawing upon her own memories, Roen knew of some of those moments--some filled with tenderness, yes, but many of pain, anger, and violence.
Until the last few suns, Roen had tried to push thoughts of Natalie out of her mind. Her death had come while she was trying to hunt down someone Roen held dear; it had also been Natalie who had been responsible for so many tears, and so much suffering before that.
And yet...
The paladin could not forget the tender moments they had shared, the quietly-spoken words of trust and understanding, nor the smiles or small moments of laughter between them. Now that she stood before the Miqo’te’s grave, Roen knew that she did not want to remember her former mentor as she was in the last of her days. She did not want to remember her as an enemy. She wanted to remember her as a friend, a confidant, and her mentor who swore her into the Order of the Sultansworn. Natalie had accepted her despite her heritage, and also helped to clear both her name and that of Gharen’s from wanted charges as traitor and terrorist.
“I forgive you,†Roen finally said. “I forgive you for all the things that you did and all the things that happened. I cannot forgive you for him, nor for those whose lives you took. But I no longer hold hatred for you. I hope you found peace and clarity in the end, or after, wherever you may be.â€
Roen knelt before the gravestone, laying the pendant of Nald’thal next to the lilacs. She stayed only a moment before she rose, turned, and disappeared into the storm.
