The Healers' Prisoners

10-25-12

Fiction-ish.
______________________________

This time they'd succeeded in leaving her behind.

Granted, she'd been unconscious when they had done so, and there was no way she would be able to wield a sword for a while. But to be left behind when everyone else went on to glory and to death--well, it tore at her heart.

Uncle would say that she had gained glory enough--but she hadn't gained death, which is what she'd wanted. The glory was just a by-product that came from dying in battle. Rather to die there than burnt alive when the enemy descended upon the city.

She stood on the wall, gazing toward the East, waiting for the Warden to introduce her. There they were--and there he was--traveling to the black gates. It was bitterly unfair that her part in the story had ended short of what she'd hoped to accomplish. The battles went on, and she still lived.

And then he spoke.
_____________________________