What Doesn't Kill You

Epilogue

The wind blew Tia's peasant dress this way and that, but she managed to look dignified in spite of it. Her soft, welcoming smile would be enough thanks for any mercenary, and the only reward he would receive.

She watched the sun rise over the wintry landscape and watched a figure approach them with a steady gait.

As the man came closer into view, she began to have an odd feeling in her stomach. Like it was warm and buzzing. She knew not what this meant. Was this some kind of instinctual warning against the stranger? The muscles in her arms tensed. He was nearly beside her now.

He stopped, staring blankly at her face for what most would consider an impolite length of time. At first she simply looked back at him, noticing the small dots of blood on his bare chest and arms, and some dirt on his face, possibly from an altercation of some sort. Eventually, she was able to work up her nerve and bring herself to speak.

"Do I...know...you?" she asked. Those had not been the words she had planned on saying. And yet...there they were.

The man remained still, his eyes harsh, yet peaceful. As though he had seen a lifetime of sorrow, perhaps even been the cause of it, but still felt guilty over something. His long, blonde hair fell across his shoulders, stray bits of grass caught here and there. He shook his head slightly, tossing them free in the process.

"No madam..." he said finally. "I believe you do not know me."

"Why...why do you look at me so?" she continued. Those eyes. They yet remained, fixed upon her own. She felt a sudden urge to cry.

At this the stranger finally relented, looking off to the side.

"My apologies..." he said, his voice nearly a whisper, and yet as strong and clear as a silver trumpet. "I was...You are very beautiful, milady." He started to continue down the path and past her, but she placed a hand on his arm before he could leave.

"Wait..." Her mind swirled. Was this...could it be? After all these years?

They stood there for a while, neither saying a word, her eyes on his, while he looked toward the ground.

"Thank you..." she said at last. The stranger paused for a moment, nodded, and continued on his way.

She could not shake the feeling that she knew him, that she should stop him from leaving. That she should speak to him some more.

But before she could work up the nerve, he was gone, and she was almost certain he would not return.

The End…or is it?