~??? ✧ Epilogue~

Hollow Grounds

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     “Are we almost there?” she asks, although scarcely can I hear her over the loud clanging of the road below, the tiny rocks clinking and clunking off the metal of the vehicle. It’s so rough, it nearly feels as though we are on the sea, rather than land.

     “We should be soon,” I say, yet even I must question if this map is correct.

     This land looks very different from what I remember…amidst the forests were meadows, farms, villages—this place was far from the center of civilization, and yet still was it imbued with the pulse of human life and ingenuity. I know not whether this land became barren because the soil itself had been depleted of her gifts, or perhaps it is simply too far away from the excitement of the newly bustling cities… Either way, now where there were farm fields are forests, where there were towns there are now ruins. Perhaps I should be glad to see the fae reclaim what is theirs—yet, it only fills me with a faint hollowness.

     After some time of driving in the woods, the darkness so oppressing it seems to swallow even the headlights within it, we eventually see a sign. It’s a historical marker, white wood with raised, gilded text—but it, too, though a relatively recent addition to this place, is clearly decaying, abandoned. How strange it is they deigned to place it at all—yet, I suppose this village produced one illustrious person, though it became not her final resting place…a fact I will forever regret.

     Klédbâše Bydlin Ykhtoriâ, it says…The Historical Bydlin Cemetery. We turn a little off the road, parking at the entrance, for there is nowhere for vehicles to enter.

     She and I exit. From her purse she procures a flashlight, but it only faintly pierces the darkness.

     “Would you like to wait until the morning?” I ask softly, gently rubbing her shoulder. “This can w—”

     “Not knowing what I do now, it can’t,” she sharply replies. “I…I have to know. And if shit’s the same—we have to stop it.”

     “All right,” I quietly acquiesce as we enter the hallowed grounds.

     I gaze around us, to see if I can yet sense any presence—see any soul. But, it’s much changed from the last time I had come here; and, not merely the physical land, the modest headstones worn and decayed with time, forgotten, no flowers or candles anywhere to be found, for even their descendants have passed long ago… There is no presence of spirit. No one lingers here. These grounds, at last, are well and truly dead.

     “Tell me,” she says after we walk but a few steps, “What do you see?”

     “Nothing,” I say. “Nothing but the headstones and the trees.”

     “Truly?” she says breathlessly, “She’s…no longer here?”

     “No. She is not.”

     She turns away from me, shifting her gaze to the cemetery before us, rushing her hands through her long raven-colored hair. “Good. One less thing for me to feel guilty about,” she says irreverently—yet, the sorrow clinging to her aura swells like a great storm.

     “Come,” I say, putting my hand on her shoulder again, attempting to guide her back to the truck—and yet she continues on as though I said nothing at all.

     “I—I want to find them.”

     “Their headstones?”

     “Yes.”

     “There’s no use.”

     She steps forwards a handful of steps, looking around, pointing the weak light this way and that. No more than one or two words are discernable on any of the headstones, and there is little distinction between them besides. None here could spare too much expense merely for markers of the dead.

     “You’d think,” she spits, “With as famous as she was, they wouldn’t abandon her damn hometown like this.”

     “I believe her legacy is too complicated to warrant such measures from the state…” I mutter, my chest aching at the mention of her. How strange indeed…no heart beats within me, yet it throbs all the same.

     “Ugh,” she says, turning away. I notice the presence of tears in her eyes. “I forgot to bring anything anyways…”

     “An offering?”

     “What else?”

     “Well…” I begin, turning my gaze before me, “If there are none to receive it, it matters not regardless.”

     “It’s about respect, dipshit,” she shoots back. “But…I guess the only ‘dipshit’ here is me—I’m the one who forgot. Pšyku…”

     “Let us return,” I sigh, rubbing her back. Wordlessly she nods, and we return from whence we came.

     We enter the vehicle, the sound of even the doors closing seeming loud in this silence. Immediately she begins to rummage through the console, quickly finding a pack of cigarettes, and lighting one.

     “Now, please tell me…” I begin, “Why did you wish to come here? I could have come alone, and it would have been much swifter, and less troublesome for you.”

     She says nothing, and simply breathes out some smoke.

     “Are there any gas stations around here?” she asks quietly, flatly. “I’m low on cigarettes.”

     I sigh. “I am certain we can find one.”

     “And…” she lowers her eyes, the color of embarrassment enveloping her, “Would you mind if I also get a drink?”

     “Not at all.”

     I insert the key into the engine, starting the vehicle, the old thing hardly wishing to arouse even from this short slumber. “You didn’t answer my question.”

     “You know…” she shrugs, and gazes out her side window. “If all was the same…I’m the only one with even a chance to fix it. You couldn’t.”

     “She wasn’t corrupted. There was nothing for you to do.”

     “Perhaps I could have convinced her,” she says softly—as softly as she can and still be heard. “To move on. To stop waiting.”

     I sigh as I slowly pull out of the grass, onto the road, and continue on. “I believe…that’s a decision she only could have made herself. She was so determined to wait in life, regardless of the protestations of everyone…I don’t see why she would suddenly shift in death.”

     “There’s no use in death—although, perhaps the stakes are lower than in life,” she scoffs. “Human lifespans are so short, and yet she wasted so much of it—and then went on to waste even more time. What…a pitiful fool.”

     “I waited much longer for you, and for much less.”

     “Because you’re an idiot,” she replies, and I can only chuckle—although it is brief.

     “Don’t act as though you know not as well as I the lunacy of love.”

     “I never said you’re the only one,” her voice grows quiet again, her aura once more darkening.

     With this, she throws her cigarette in the ashtray, and immediately goes for another.

     “You shouldn’t smoke in such quick succession,” I gently admonish her.

     “I ‘shouldn’t’ be smoking at all, but I don’t give a damn.”

     For only a moment I glance away from the road to her. Even enveloped in shadow, can I see her eventide eyes are darkened and bloodshot. “You need rest. Let’s just go to a hotel for the evening.”

     “No,” she mutters, “I only have so much time away from work…we shouldn’t waste it.”

     “You know you needn’t do that,” I sigh. “I will provide for you; you do not have to work. If you grow bored, we can find something better for you.”

     “No,” she replies sharply. “I ain’t special…I’ll earn my dues just like everyone else.”

     Soon, only the sound of the engine pierces the silence. For a brief time, I simply focus on the road ahead, the horrendous noise of it, and the endless shadows. I attempt to forget all else—how we came here, why we came here, our endless mistakes leading us to this guilt we cannot shake, and seemingly cannot right.

     “So…” she begins again after some time, “What…what do you think happened to her? Is she…truly gone?”

     I sigh. I suppose she can forget as well as I.

     “She must be.”

     “I…I wish I could’ve…” she mumbles, and I hear the tears begin to swell in her voice. I reach over with my right hand, grasping hers, tenderly rubbing her palm.

     “We’re getting a hotel. You need to sleep.”

     She sighs deeply. “All right, then… Let’s get going.”

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[Last]