Ashes of Cinder

Epilogue

The smell of bread, delicacies, and treats filled the air to create a homely feeling within the store. It wafted out the door, garnering customers' attention from the streets, making their stomach growl to the point they needed a taste of what was inside. Inside of the store, it was as warm as its scent. Glass panes showcased the beautifully insane structures of baked foods. Dainty, little tables and chairs were propped up from the corners of the store. On the surface of the smooth, brown table, candles stood in the middle and were lit up romantically of rose scented candles.

Behind the counter was you -- a busy young woman, with flour in her [h/c] hair and [s/c] face, but had a smile on nonetheless. That was right. You owned this bakery. By the power of your own two hands, you had reached your goal after five long years. Moving out of France and building a business in Britain, you started anew and became the person you had always hoped to be. For once in your lifetime, you were happy -- with yourself, your progress, and your strength.

Politely conversing with the young woman in front of you, you reached down to fetch the cherry pastry she asked for. Encountering new people everyday was one of your favorite things about working here. You loved everything about owning a bakery. You loved waking up early every morning to go down to the kitchen to create and experiment new recipes to try. You loved talking to the customers. You loved watching their faces light up at the first bite they take. You loved to see the various types of relationships enter the store; whether that'd be a romantic couple, father and son, father and daughter, mother and daughter, and more, you could always distinguish the love in their eyes.

Though you didn't have love in your own life, you were satisfied to see it in other people's lives.

Not only was it in your customers' lives, but you received the wonderful opportunity to see love in Ira's life. Ira still lived in France and though it was saddening to part from your dear friend, the new beginning in this country was needed. Luckily, you would see her again whenever she came to visit you. The two of you also kept in touch through letters. But while you were staying with Ira, she offered you the emotional support you needed. In turn, you wanted to pay her back. With you by her side, she was able to convince her parents to cancel the engagement with Vincent. A year later, she fell in love and soon married. It was one of the happiest days in your life.

You snapped out of your thoughts when someone approached you.

The young teenage girl beside you was Merida. She appeared at your bakery one day and asked if she could work here. It was a surprise to you, but after seeing how skillful she was with baking, you hired her. It made your days less lonely and she was a bright sunshine that reminded you of your naive, younger days. Indeed. She reminded you of your past self.

"You made a tophat design on this cake! How is this even possible? You're so creative, [Y/N]," the girl gasped, peering at the dark, shaped hat, created by frosting.

You chuckled and petted her head motherly. "It was an inspiration from the past. That is all, so don't start sugaring me up, now."

She pressed her fingers against the glass, her fingerprints smudging it with powder. "It looks too realistic. I almost want to grab it and wear it on my head."

"Go back to work already," you groaned, pushing her towards the cashier. She pouted at you, but relented and returned to her position. A smile adorned your lips, yet the mention of the top hat gave your heart a little squeeze. Sure, time truly did heal you, but it became a bittersweet feeling. The memories from five years ago was etched on your mind, never meant to be forgotten. You were pretty sure you would still remember about it during your death bed.

Blaise Wellington. During the times he was alive, he caused you grief. When he died, he also caused you grief. He was a double edged sword in that sense, causing you misery either way. He was your first love, even before you knew his name. He was the mysterious childhood friend that disappeared from you. He was the mysterious man with the top hat. He was your desperate taste of freedom. He was your savior from stepmother's talons. He was your first kiss. A lot of things described him, but words couldn't meet up to his charms. And words couldn't meet up to the fear you felt when you realized he had put you in a bigger cage than stepmother ever did.

To sum it up, he was the angel of death.

He hurt you more than he saved you, but there was something to thank him for. Without him, you wouldn't be where you were at in this point of your life. He had given you the strength and courage to follow your dreams. Because of him, you finally understood you couldn't take a seat back anymore. The only way to ever achieve something was to fight for it. No one could ever win with the weak mindset you had. Stepmother wasn't as terrifying as your mind made her out to be. She was still human and she had her flaws. If you stood your ground against her from the beginning, she wouldn't have taken advantage of you.

Returning to the present and continuing your work at the bakery, the lovely day went by without any occurrences. When the time came to close the bakery, you and Merida went to clean up the place. Once that was done, the two of you left the store and you made sure to lock the shop up. Greeted by the dark, crispy air of the autumn season, you strolled down the streets along with Merida.

Deciding to tease her a little, you went to jab a finger at her stomach. She spewed out laughter and held her tummy to prevent you from tickling her further. "That was uncalled for!" she giggled, attempting to get revenge. The both of you ran around like little kids, huffing tiringly after a few rounds.

"Come on, lets go to our favorite spot before we head home. I also brought a few treats... I know you've been eying them the entire day," you told her. Her brown eyes lit up in excitement and she nodded immediately.

A few minutes passed and the bridge came into view. Built of cobblestones, the area was brightened by the tall lamp posts built along the edges. Stretched on for miles on end was a lake beneath the bridge, glimmering with the night sky. The outskirts of the lake were of massive buildings, homes, and stores. Leaning your elbows on the edge of the structure, you took it all in. Everything about this was peaceful and freeing, thus why it was a favorite spot. As you and Merida bit down on warm bread, it was silent, but the silence felt right.

Soon afterwards, you took out an old parchment that looked like it lived for eons. It was tear stained, wrinkled, messed up by ingredients, and had a little ink spilled on it, but the writing was still legible.

You've read this a millions of times already, but you took another look at it.

Dearest [Y/N],

I am writing this on the day of my execution, but they allow me to say goodbye to you first. Everything is honestly a blur lately, but I am not afraid of death as much as I'm afraid of never seeing you again. I love you. I love you. I love you. I know I say this to you all the time, but I don't want you to ever forget. I apologize for the pain I caused you, but I do not regret the things I've done. I do not regret that your stepfamily suffered or that I stabbed the Prince with my own bare hands. I feel justified with my reasons for doing so, however terrible this seem to you. Perhaps that is why it is better that I shall die soon, for my love is always too strong, too drowning, and too ugly for anyone else to survive with. You are better without my monstrous love, so I hope to see you happy without me. It's burning me alive to think of you happy without me by your side, but if a smile appears on your face ever again, then that is enough for me.

Blaise Wellington

The first time you read this, you cried hours on end, shaking and crumbling to the floor in the guest bedroom of Ira's manor. Since then, this pitiful letter was stuck by your side for the last few years. It was different this time. No tears erupted from your hues nor did you feel saddened -- melancholy, sure, but you weren't trapped in the past anymore.

Your fingertips gently held the parchment and you began to rip it, over and over until it became tiny pieces. All of it was laying in a pile on your palm, so you took a deep breath and blew them into the air. Falling beautifully into the water, they were scattered, floating away.

It was about time you let him go.

A/N: The importation to this story is complete!! Thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey, I am very grateful for the support despite the slow updates. Looking back on it, I actually really liked the way I ended it -- kinda sad and melancholy but lowk beautiful LOL okay i sound like im stroking my own ego here but... Alright bye guys! Thanks for everything.