The Legends Live On

Love & War

                                                                                      A Year or So Later

Day and I dance the night away. When the event ends, Day kisses my hand (so oddly formal for him) and we say goodbye. I head home and change into pajamas. A message comes through my receptor, it's Day, "Meet me tomorrow for lunch at..." An address I don't recognize concludes the message. I type back, "Of course, what's the occasion?" Day responds instantaneously, "Nothing. See you there." I can almost read his silly grin in his writing. I smile to myself and crawl into bed.

I rise to find Macey, the dog I got after Ollie passed away, laying across my feet. Today is a Sunday, so I have nothing to do except meet Day. I wriggle my legs out from under Macey and cruelly rip the warm covers off myself. I stride to the bathroom, undress, and shower. I emerge and dress myself in a simple but attractive outfit: tight-fitting jeans, knee-high black boots, a black peplum top, and the ruby-red neckless Day gave me. I don a long black pea-coat and a gray scarf. I brace myself and walk into the cold. As I make my way to the address, I find Day waiting for me at a stop sign. His face spreads into a wry smile when he sees me and I smile back. 

He still won't tell me where we're going. We walk through streets and parks. Finally, we arrive at a grassy knoll where a romantic picnic, complete with a bottle of champagne, is neatly arranged. I gasp and smile, "You didn't have to do all this!" I exclaim. "But I did!" Day replies jubilantly. We sit and eat and chat, a comfortable rhythm settling between us. Day stands and extends his hand towards me, "This is what I really wanted to show you." I grasp his warm, calloused hand and rise to my feet. I follow him down a street, through an alley, and into a nasty looking part of town. He's carrying our picnic basket and he keeps fiddling with something in his right pocket. He's growing nervous. His face shows it. Day keeps on walking, seemingly growing more anxious. Finally, we arrive at an abandoned street in a poor sector. We're standing across from a pile of junk and scrap metal. Day glances at a rusted train car leaning on it's side. It takes me a minute, but then it all connects. It is the train car where we took shelter from the raging storm; that night we escaped from Batalla Hall and I betrayed the Republic. I stand there shell-shocked and Day stands, stoic and silent. "I remember..." he says. I walk over and gingerly touch the train car, running my hand along the side of it. When I turn around, Day is standing there, a small box in his hand. "Day, what?..." my mouth falls open. There are few things I'm not prepared for and this is one of them. Day kneels, wincing a little as his metal leg clunks against the ground. He opens the box and reveals a tri-colored delicate ring. It's gold, red, and blue. The wires are small and intertwined. "Ms. Iparis," he says with a wink, "will you do me the honor of possibly marrying me?" I just stand there, moving my mouth open and closed like a fish. "Yes! Of course... Cousin?" I say, the Lake sector colloquialism unfamiliar on my tongue. Day chuckles at my attempt to use street lingo. He leans close and kisses me. When we break apart, I begin to talk because my mind has already been racing. "Tess could be my maid of honor, and Eden could be your best man..." "You're always planning ahead." Day says, smiling, "Don't worry about it." Then he kisses me again, just to make me be quiet.

And that's when three loud bangs pierce the air.

Gunshots.

I turn back to Day in time to see the crimson burst splatter onto his pristine white shirt.

"Day!" A frantic sound escapes my throat as I lunge toward Day. He's fallen onto the cement, blood flowering onto his shirt like a brilliant rose. I kneel and gingerly peel up the bottom of his shirt. It looks like the bullet when straight through... Mentally I gauge the entry wound. I'm able to surmise that it didn't hit anything fatal. "Umm..." I bite my lip as I unbutton Day's shirt and fold it, pressing it down against his wound. I then reach down and yank a strip of cloth from the bottom of my shirt, wrapping it around his whole body in an attempt to quell the bleeding. I leap to my feet and visually sweep the area. I can't see any of the shooters, but isn't that kind of their goal? The wind whips my long raven ponytail as I run back to Day. I can't carry him. Instead, I prop Day onto my shoulder, his arm draping heavily over my shoulders. I manage to stagger with him into the doorway of the nearest building. Now that he's somewhat unexposed, maybe I can discover the source of those shots. I turn towards the building the shots seemed to have originated from, looking back at Day, who is barely semi-conscious. I kneel on the gravel and lean towards him. "I love you," I whisper, and sprint in the opposite direction.

As I crest the final steps to the roof of the building, I glimpse a man in black. His piercing green eyes, the only thing I can see with the ski mask covering his face, widen at the sight of me. I know those eyes.

My lips part as the word escapes them, "Anden?"