Chapter Four: The One I Am
Not long after they awoke from their temporary slumber, the living warriors set off to hold their own funeral for their dear comrades, who were not fortunate enough to survive the ordeal.
Clare was able to recover quickly and got busy setting up Jean's grave. Everything she did without shedding even a single tear, for that would be dishonourable for the dead latter.
She, who had initially came to seek closure, instead found a new point to begin. Clare's goal of revenge was not diminished, but fueled with many other reasons. She also remained persistant in searching for Raki. No matter how long it took, she just could not leave him waiting and hanging.
What to be done next was left for another day. Clare focused on the task at hand, veiling the last of Jean's serene face with snow. Now for the final task.
Carefully, she gripped the hilt of Jean's Claymore and stuck it firmly above where her corpse was supposed to be. The freshly polished metal shone, reflecting the sunlight. With that, she had finished what she could do for now.
To achieve greatness, one would have to sacrifice something equally great. More often than not, the sacrifice would not be you. Because without you, there would be no dream. Jean proved that wrong and by sacrificing herself, she achieved more than greatness.
Life was unfair, and that was that. All you could do was to set things right.
Clare let her hand linger on the hilt for a moment, then withdrew half-heartedly and went over to Flora's grave, not looking back. She never did.
It would be a long time until she could thank Jean again, face to face. And even that would not be enough.
Hi again...someone mentioned that the old kind of formatting is hard to read, so I went back to fix it. Sorry...