Empyrean Iris Story Collection Vol. 4

Middle Finger to Fate

She Stands on the sun-warmed stone of her own memorial. Silver letters shine up at her from beneath her feet, her own name, Tala Masina Kelly, Immortalized for as long as time and erosion would allow. One day these letters would no longer be readable, but this spot would still hold significance to her.

Just to the side, her blood still stains the stone with its memory, seeped into the concrete where it lingers despite rainfall and efforts to clean it. The staines stare back up at her, And with its silence, it shouts a reminder of all the things that have changed, of all the things she has lost and sacrificed to make it this far.

Her memorial stone is clean, clean from dirt and debris and footsteps as if no one had dared to trod on the place where her ghost lingered, where the bloodstains still held a piece of her hostage.

And in a way they would have been right. A part of Kelly had been lost that day, and she had been shedding pieces ever since, but she is not frightened to stand on the place of her death, to look out with eyes, forever changed, over a scene that seems so similar despite so many years.

She chooses to stand here as a middle finger to fate.

The crowd is even larger than it was last time, security even more heightened.

Despite her newfound power as a maker, her secret service still makes an appearance, an honorary guard to the deathless.

The people that stand beside her are the same ones that stood beside her so many years before. Generals, admirals and supporting politicians. Her husband Hye, stands just to the side, and from the look on his face she can tell, he is having more trouble with this than she is. He looks nauseous, and even as she stares at the stain left behind by her death, he cannot look.

She isn't proficient in reading minds, but she can sense his distress from here. These steps mark the worst moment of his life, the most traumatic event that he has ever experienced, and now he is expected to stand here again. Hye never developed full blown posttraumatic stress, but that didn't mean he wanted to be here. She wishes to reach out, to hold his hand and comfort him, but he is too far away,

Thankfully, someone else is there to comfort him.

Admiral Vir, sensing her husband's distress, steps down a stair or two and rests his hand on Hye's shoulder. Adam is much taller than Hye, at least by five inches. He wears the sharp, black uniform of arcadia. The last time he had stood here, the uniform he wore had been grey with the colors of the UNSC. Behind him stands Sunny resplendent in her pearl armor.

The chairwoman of the galactic assembly is noticeably absent. The whole that she would have taken up is quickly filled by some unknown delegate or other, but still the hole has not been filled.

Rundi rarely declined an invitation to go to inauguration events of politicians, and when she said rarely, the truth of the matter was almost never. She exchanges a brief thought with Adam on the same subject.

He has noticed too.

And then there is a new addition.

One of her dearest friends.

Where Adam is like a son to her, Celex has forever rooted himself into the place of honor as her friend. She knows that he feels the same. You can't go through what they have gone through and not come out with a bond tighter than family.

He wears a suit today, and it seems so odd to see him like that. His hair is combed neatly back and pulled into a low ponytail at the nape of his neck. His hair is still a technicolor mess, and he doesn't bother to hide it, though he is very presentable. The suit looks good on him, and there are a few people in the crowd who can't help but notice.