The Promise of the Dawn

Epilogue

Cael Declan Mcleod,

My purest love.

It's been three hundred and fifty-six days, seven hours, and forty-five minutes since I last got to hold you in my arms.

Not only is it our anniversary, but it's also the day when you must retire to your eternal rest beneath the soil.

I made sure you were buried next to your mother and father, underneath the willow tree in the Estate's gardens.

I know you'd be restless anywhere else.

I still find it hard to believe that only days ago, I was running with you through the golden wheat fields underneath the setting sun. I felt the warmth of your grip, saw the glow of life in your glorious eyes. Now there's only the icy essence of the grim reaper, and his shadow constantly follows me.

I feel him lurking everywhere I go, in everything I do.

He makes sure everything reminds me of you.

Every time I walk into the garden.

Every time I look up at the stars.

Everytime I walk through the wheat fields.

He's constantly taunting me with the pain he's incurred.

He's taken so much from me, and I fear he'll never stop.

You were the only thing who kept him away from me.

The only light in my life.

A light he made sure to eliminate, just like the others.

Somebody asked me today if I even missed you, and I was unable to show them the emotion they'd wished to derive from me.

I think I've been broken one too many times, and I no longer possess the ability to cry, let alone show emotion, but the truth is, I've never missed you more.

Not when I was gone on missions for days on end.

Not when you were busy working on your duties.

Not when I was preoccupied with my own duties.

And it's because I know I'll never get you back.

You're gone, Cael Declan Mcleod. 

Forever.

And I'll never get to hold you in my arms again, or kiss you when no one is watching, or fall asleep wrapped in your embrace, or wake up to your heavenly eyes.

I took the time I had with you for granted, because I didn't know it wouldn't last.

I had been prepared to spend the rest of my life with you, and the rest of our lives would've been enough time.

But we were stripped of our happy ending by the hatred and bloodlust of others, and now we no longer have the rest of our lives.

We only have our afterlives.

So now I sit alone, waiting for the grim reaper to take me too, so I can once again live alongside you, eternally.

I often wonder how people will tell our story when we're both gone. If we'll be part of the history books, or if everything will just end in tragedy and no one will want to tell our stories.

Then I remind myself: I won't be in the history books; that's for you. But I loved you first. As long as they get that right, I don't care what they say.

I will forever and always love you. To pluto and back,

Amaris Eyre Mcleod