Falling Skies

Epilogue

Summer blends into fall as spring once blended into summer. A time that seems so long ago as the leaves now fall from the trees, scattering along the cobblestone paths December has walked everyday.

Everyday for three months. Everyday as the crickets slowly fell to sleep, as the air grew colder and the sky drifted from blue to grey. As the light faded from his world and the Earth grew to match.

Three months without Ryder, without Wren or Jax. A side effect of the Celestial Union no one was aware of. That it ties a soul to another, so that when Wren fell, when the sun eclipsed and the earth trembled, he took the others with him in death.

Everyday, December walks this cobblestone path with a prayer in his heart as he steps through the burnt and blackened soul bloom field. The field that lays empty, void of any souls, any life, just blackened earth and hardening ground soon to be frozen over with frost.

December pauses at the start of the field, a wave of nausea hitting him as he stares out into the night at the burnt ground. It still smells of fire, red dancing behind closed lids as he shuts his eyes from the sight of it. From the sight of Wren crying over the flames, from Ryder wrapped tight around him, holding Wren's screaming body in his arms.

He shakes the thought away, a deep breath pulsing courage through his veins as he steps into the empty field. As he walks through the same patch of grass, now withered and worn as it commits his touch to memory. His bare feet against the softened grass, wilted and dry with the season. 

As he whispers the same prayer, the same beg that today will be the day, that his waiting is over. That today is the day he comes back with a bloom. Everyday, for three months. Like clockwork, like religion as everyday is met with the same disappointment, the same silent tears that now refuse to flow.

With his hands shoved deep into his pockets he rounds each corner, each clearing he's committed to memory as he scans the scorched earth for any sign of life, any sign of green vines or white petals. Yet as he nears closer to Wren's grave that familiar sinking feeling sets in, the one that throws his stomach into knots and forces him to double over with nausea. The one that says this is pointless, that a bloom won't grow on scorched earth, that Wren is gone forever.

With a defeated sigh he comes to a stop, head falling backwards as he stares into the star coated night sky, Wren's sky. The sky he brought back as he forced the barrier down that day, the sky that now feels comforting as December shuts his eyes to the glow of the stars.

"Wren, I know you're listening, you're too nosy not to." He chuckles to the stars, throat tightening with every tear that threatens to fall. "Sasha told me I should try checking at night, that maybe you're just a little shy. Can you believe we're friends now? Sasha and me, I know, it's crazy." He smiles to no one but himself, head falling forward with a tear soaked sigh.

One step at a time. "Maybe tonight's the night I get to meet you again."

One foot in front of the other. "I never took Sasha as the type to love children but meeting you is all he can talk about."

One breath. One prayer. "I think we all just miss you... but," December pipes up, wiping his tears on the back of his hand as he glances at the starry sky. "I know you'll come back when you're ready."

One blossom.

One, singular blossom sat stout in the black dirt. A blossom that forces the breath from December's lungs as he doubles over at the sight of it. The sight of a large bloom, not white but a deep burgundy and purple, peeking from the soil. He can barely move, barely think, barely breathe as he stares at the flower sat before the extravagant Kings' Graves. December can't help the laugh that bubbles from his throat or the smile that draws across his lips as he approaches the darkened flower.

The pure, genuine, smile as he plucks the colossal bloom from the ash and cradles it in his arms. His vision blurs from tears, a stomach lurching mixture of happiness and grief, because with this flower comes confirmation. Confirmation that Wren is truly gone, that the man he loved is never coming back. That he'll never see another hazy glance, never know another twinkling laugh or dreaming smile.

Yet it's also confirmation that his soul isn't truly gone. That in this bloom carries a king, carries Wren's soul, Basil's soul, Mikhail's soul.

With a tear stained smile December unwraps each petal until he's met with a child with hair as black as night. Ryder's hair, blended with a singular strip of white that curls against its scalp as it cries into the starry sky. Cries with obsidian eyes void of any whites until they stare into a familiar blue and it's cries cease to be. A quiet falls over the two as they stare at one another alone in the field, a dark shadow on the petals drawing December's attention from the infant.

For in the veins of the petals, pressed against the child lies a name. The name of a king, of a soul he once loved. A name December whispers into the stars with hazy blue eyes and a daydreaming smile.

Blight

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A/N we did it y'all we finished Falling Skies *cry* and yes I did tear up writing the ending cause wow it's really over but also not over cause YES, there is a sequel to this story (that I actually plan on writing unlike my other sequels *yikes*)
The sequel is Broken Kingdoms and while it does take place in the future don't worry there isn't any weird December/Blight romance going on cause that would just be super gross :D
Next chapter is just character aesthetics but THANK YOU !! If you made it this far !! <3