An Epilogue (or Prologue)

Ryn

She remained perched on the bridge railing long after the sun had set. Being precariously close to a long drop where the only thing preventing the fall was the tips of her soles made many view her as senseless and utterly irrational, but to her it was comfort. The delicate balance between flight and fall, being in tandem with the sky and the earth, at the complete but harmonious mercy of the world. Ryn felt like a bird. Elegantly balanced on the balls of her feet ready to take flight at even the slightest sound. The cool night air blew her dark curls across her face, wanting to push it out of the way to whisper her a secret. Ryn had come here every sunset, it is here where she had first met him, it is here where she had seen him leave without so much as a parting glance. Even though she knew better than to hope in hopeless causes, some part of her deep down still wanted him to walk by the bridge overlooking the path, for him to look up and see her still waiting, and that part of her kept her here. Waiting.

Ryn sighed, the crickets had begun to sing and the city lights were slowly blink ping into darkness. Window by window, row by row, slowly but surely. It was getting late, even for her. She gave one last fleeting look at the path under, and then she leapt off the railing onto the bridge a few yards away.

"Well wasn't that just so eventful," Ryn muttered to herself.

She was just driving the knife deeper into the cracks of her heart by waiting. He wasn't coming back. He was dead. Dead people don't come back. She had plenty of people in her pond, and it is time to let its iced surface thaw. Ryn carefully walked along the brick in the same pattern she did every night, a close to her pointless routine. Suddenly, something sharply knocked into her shoulder with a thud.

"Hey! Watch it!" She sneered instinctively.

"I'm sorry to ruin your walking pity party," They answered back coolly.

"Excuse me? I'm not having 'a walking pity party', but it seems like you are" Ryn scoffed, finally looking up at the stranger. Then her breath caught in her throat, her mind refusing to believe the facts in front of her. It's him, his blonde hair catching the moonlight, his grey eyes cold and icy. He's dead.

"Ace?" Ryn managed to croak out, "Is that you?"

The young man turned his head towards her a fraction of an inch, "Do I know you?"

Tears blurred Ryn's vision, and she barely managed to hold them in. Of course he didn't remember her, the memory wipe had done its job, and done it well right before it caused his death. But he's not dead, a little voice in the back of her head piped up, He's here right in front of you.

"I- uh... No, I don't think we've met," Ryn replied quickly, brushing her tears away, "You just look like someone I used to know a really long time ago,"

"Oh, I must have one of those faces then" Ace replied, his face frigid and annoyed.

Ryn searched his expression for a hint of understanding, friendliness, the boy he used to be, but Ace isn't a boy anymore. She watched him turn to leave. Just the same way all those years ago. No parting glance, no heartfelt goodbye, just a brisk sever of ties. Except this time, Ace turned back.

"Wait,"

"I will," Ryn whispered, not daring to breathe.

"I think I remember you..." Ace said thoughtfully, then recognition flashed across his features.

"Do you?" Ryn answered gently, the tears threatening to spill over.

"I remember you, all of it. I was confused, in a daze, a fog around my memory and now- Ryn? Is that you?" He spilled out hoarsely.

"It's me Ace, you've found me," Ryn gasped, "I've waited so long to see you again. I thought you were dead,"

"I wasn't, but I might as well have been." He murmured shakily, then he slowly unfolded his arms out in a welcome.