good-bye
(...)
a voice broke through the ovation, a voice of a very old, very tired man. “she’s asking for you, gerrard.”
applauding agnate’s escape from a back stab, gerrard said distractedly, “who is?”
“hanna.”
wheeling, gerrard stared incredulously at the blind seer. “sh-she’s awake?”
the old man nodded, his face shadowed in the wide brim of his hat. “but not for too long.”
gerrard shoved his way across the deck. he reached the amidships hatch and descended. it took only moments to clamber down the stairs to the sick bay. it seemed hours. gerrard fairly vaulted across the room, falling to his knees at hanna’s side.
“you’re awake! hanna! you’re awake!”
she smiled a van smile through rictus lips. “the old man. he did something.”
“he’s healing you!” gerrard gasped, though even he knew this hope was false.
“no. he is letting us say good-bye.”
“don’t say that!”
despite the plague’s ravages, she was somehow beautiful in that moment. “i have to, and so do you.”
gerrard grasped her shoulders, felt only bones in his hands, and let go. “how can i live without you?”
“you lived without me for twenty-six years,” hanna said sadly. gerrard’s smile was rueful.
“we all remember how worthless i was then.”
a loud cheer shook the sands beyond the ship.
“what’s happening?”
“a duel,” gerrard said. “it’s nothing. someone lost his partner -”
“it’s a new world being born, gerrard,” hanna replied wistfully. “it’s a new world, and the partners of the old must say good-bye.”
“no.” his eyes glimmered intently. “no. i won’t say it.”
“then i will die without hearing it -”
“you won’t die. you can’t -”
“i can, and i will,” hanna said. her lids slid slowly down her blue eyes. “the old sage’s magic cannot last much longer. good-bye, gerrard.”
“i’ll say i love you. i’ll say you’re everything to me. but i won’t say -”
she trembled once last. her final breath left in a long, sweet sigh. an ovation roared through the heavens, shaking the ship’s vast beams.
“no, hanna,” gerrard groaned. he leaned over her, sliding his arms beneath her. a tear fell on white sheets. he lifted her. there was nothing in his arms, nothing at all. she was gone. “no, hanna. no. i won’t say it. i can’t say it.”
a voice came at the door – loud and exited, with a clear benalish accent.
“he’s done it! eladamri has bested the metathran!”
clutching that lifeless shell to his breast, gerrard whispered simply, “good-bye, hanna. good-bye.”
a voice broke through the ovation, a voice of a very old, very tired man. “she’s asking for you, gerrard.”
applauding agnate’s escape from a back stab, gerrard said distractedly, “who is?”
“hanna.”
wheeling, gerrard stared incredulously at the blind seer. “sh-she’s awake?”
the old man nodded, his face shadowed in the wide brim of his hat. “but not for too long.”
gerrard shoved his way across the deck. he reached the amidships hatch and descended. it took only moments to clamber down the stairs to the sick bay. it seemed hours. gerrard fairly vaulted across the room, falling to his knees at hanna’s side.
“you’re awake! hanna! you’re awake!”
she smiled a van smile through rictus lips. “the old man. he did something.”
“he’s healing you!” gerrard gasped, though even he knew this hope was false.
“no. he is letting us say good-bye.”
“don’t say that!”
despite the plague’s ravages, she was somehow beautiful in that moment. “i have to, and so do you.”
gerrard grasped her shoulders, felt only bones in his hands, and let go. “how can i live without you?”
“you lived without me for twenty-six years,” hanna said sadly. gerrard’s smile was rueful.
“we all remember how worthless i was then.”
a loud cheer shook the sands beyond the ship.
“what’s happening?”
“a duel,” gerrard said. “it’s nothing. someone lost his partner -”
“it’s a new world being born, gerrard,” hanna replied wistfully. “it’s a new world, and the partners of the old must say good-bye.”
“no.” his eyes glimmered intently. “no. i won’t say it.”
“then i will die without hearing it -”
“you won’t die. you can’t -”
“i can, and i will,” hanna said. her lids slid slowly down her blue eyes. “the old sage’s magic cannot last much longer. good-bye, gerrard.”
“i’ll say i love you. i’ll say you’re everything to me. but i won’t say -”
she trembled once last. her final breath left in a long, sweet sigh. an ovation roared through the heavens, shaking the ship’s vast beams.
“no, hanna,” gerrard groaned. he leaned over her, sliding his arms beneath her. a tear fell on white sheets. he lifted her. there was nothing in his arms, nothing at all. she was gone. “no, hanna. no. i won’t say it. i can’t say it.”
a voice came at the door – loud and exited, with a clear benalish accent.
“he’s done it! eladamri has bested the metathran!”
clutching that lifeless shell to his breast, gerrard whispered simply, “good-bye, hanna. good-bye.”
(j. robert king, invasion, chapter 29, “battles won and lost”, pages 241-242)
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