Gregor and the Prophecy of the Overland (Book VI)

Farewell

    "Fly you high, Gregor." Her eyes examine mine, sadly tracing the features she knows she'll never see again.
    "I can't up here Luxa, we don't have fliers in the Overland." My voice breaks at the word fliers. I can't say that anymore without thinking about blood...without thinking about Ares, the flier who risked his life with me to save the Underland. Together we fought against an army of rats and defeated the Bane, and together we were gravely wounded. Together we bled in that dark cave, without a hope of living. But we didn't die together. We didn't survive together either.
    The look of sadness Luxa wears deepens, she knows what I'm thinking and how much I'm hurting. Out of my entire family and everyone I've met in the Underland, only she truly understands me. "Then run like the river." Her hand finds mine and clasps it tight. I fight the urge to pull her into an embrace, knowing that I won't be able to let go.
    "Can't do that either. Up here there's only memories to chase me, and I can't run from those." I whisper dryly and look away, remembering the time when Twitchtip, another dead friend, had been unable to run like the river. Another blood memory tied to a good luck wish.
    "I have to say something as a farewell." Luxa tries to impossibly lighten the mood. "You know goodbye isn't good enough."
    I sigh, knowing that a goodbye is exactly what this is. I won't be seeing her again. Ever.
    "How about live you well." I meet Luxa's eyes and know immediately that this is perfect. It's the only thing that doesn't bring back a blood memory or thoughts of how lonely I'll be from this moment on. It makes it feel like we'll still be seeing each other again. And it gives me hope.
    Luxa's smile says that she likes the words just as much, "Live you well, Gregor the Overlander."
    "Live you well, Queen Luxa of the Underland." After one more quick squeeze, we release hands. Luxa turns and climbs quickly through the grate, maneuvering herself so she's positioned on Aurora's back. Her flier survived the war, but they didn't have to fight the Bane. Ares' Bane.
    Luxa doesn't meet my eyes again, and I'm glad. It'll just make it that much harder to let go. Her and her flier are suspended there for another brief moment just before they take flight. Then they're gone. She's gone. Luxa's gone.
    I sink to my knees and hold back tears. I've already cried myself dry more than once before now. I don't think I can take another round. So instead I sit in silence and pull the small bat figure from my pocket, fingering the shape that I've memorized in the weeks since my younger sister, Boots, gave it to me. In her mind it was Ares. In my mind it's all that I have left of the Underland, of Luxa. So without any further contemplation, I toss the figure down into the dark and replace the grate, moving the old drier over so it's covered.
    That life is gone.