Memoriam

It had been a long journey.

Many questioned why he felt so compelled to finish it.

He had an answer. But he didn't have enough faith in himself to be able to put it into words they could understand.

So his reply was always short, and always the same; "Because I must."

Yes, it had been a long and difficult journey. But it had to be done.

The journey had also been difficult in another sense. The sense of remorse. Regret. He knew what he'd find at his destination, and he knew he would not like it.

But he knew he wanted it done no other way.

It had been difficult to find this place. It had been so long since anybody had wielded the courage to grace it with their presence that some had forgotten it was even there. In a way, he was offended. Offended that they all had the audacity to not pay it better respects. They knew what had been here, what had happened here, who had lived here. Yet they had the gall to pretend as if it didn't pain their hearts to even think of it.

Because he knew it did. To every one of them.

Simply because they knew.

But at the same time, he found it difficult to blame them. There was nothing left here that could be undone. To even try would be foolish. Wasteful. Their lives was better spent moving on, as they had already had done. As he had already done. He couldn't blame them for doing what he knew was the logical choice. Nay, the right choice.

Some things simply must be let go in the end.

And he did have the benefit of knowing that while few seemed to know the exact locations anymore, he knew that they all knew what it was. It seemed there didn't seem to be a creature alive that didn't know what had existed here. That hadn't uttered forth its name from between their lips. They knew. They remembered. And they respected.

As long as they continued to do that, it would never die.

It was the least they could do.

It was all he could want them to do.

Such a long journey to get here. He was ready to head home. He had family that missed him. They wanted him back with them, to never leave again. And if all went well today, they would get exactly that.

But not yet.

There was one last thing that needed to be done.

And after so many long seasons of searching, questing, journeying, walking, sailing, and so forth…he had arrived.

It was not as he had remembered it once being. Standing there broken and crumbling. Overgrown with weeds, plants, and other flora. Standing from the path that ran past it still to this day, one could barely make out what it had once been.

But there it was.

Inside its largest chamber, things were even worse. It was treacherous and dirty, exposed to the elements, and despite having done it for generations before, it would not avoid time's cruel grip any longer.

And it hadn't, ever since that terrible day.

This was not how he had remembered it.

He remembered it being brighter.

Prettier.

Happier.

Livelier.

But all things came to an end.

And sometimes it ended suddenly.

And terribly.

Like it had here, all so long ago.

They had no forewarning. But there was no avoiding it. No avoiding the destruction that had been dealt. No avoiding the lives that had been ruined. Or had been lost altogether. He did not like it here anymore, not like he once had. It unnerved him. Made him feel uneasy. Sick. It reminded him of a memory that he did not need reminding of.

But there was no avoiding it.

And this absolutely had to be done.

He searched for the right spot, unsure where it was, and if it was even still here. It had been so long ago. So much had happened.

Yet he knew it would be. It was like one of those constants of life you could always count on. Like the sun rising with the morn, the spring coming after the winter, the tree bringing forth fruit…

Or the walls of this broken place always having their red glow.

Some things could never be changed, it seemed.

Finally, he found it. Right where he should've known it to be. And there was waiting for him another surprise. It had clearly seen better days. And it was torn, unraveled, and ruined. But there was no denying what it once was. And what it still was today.

The tapestry.

More importantly, the most pivotal part of the tapestry. The part that had once been the very soul of this place. The part that young'uns had looked up at and felt comfort, peace, and inspiration, as he had once done back in his youth. The part that portrayed a founder. A peacekeeper. A friend. A hero.

And above all, a warrior.

It was a figure that had fought this far to last this long. But now that figure needed to no longer. Now the time had come to set it all aside.

It was time to move on.

Above it were two rusty hooks. They carried nothing. But they had been empty for long enough.

He pulled forth the blade from his belt, and held it aloft before him. Unlike its surroundings, it hadn't changed. Perhaps it never would. Perhaps it would forever stay the same, stubbornly carrying on as time continued to pass, constantly trying to reap its havoc upon the cosmic metal but constantly failing.

He hoped it would. Then it could forever be the reminder this place needed.

So here it would sit. In reminder of what had happened. In want to show it had not gone forgotten. In memoriam of what had once been here.

He placed the blade on the hooks, and stepped back, knowing no creature would pick it up again soon, nor would he want it to.

It was time to hang up the sword.

It had served its purpose.

Its job was done.

Now Martin, both body, spirit, and sword, could rest in peace.

Here.

In Redwall.

It had been a long journey to get here.

It would be a long journey to go back.

But it had been worth every shred of the effort.

When he left that place, he knew he would never return. Never would look back upon it.

But he knew he would never need to.

Because memories never die.

Author's Note: I left things in this purposely vague. I suppose there is a bigger story to all of this, but I don't know if it needs to be told, or if I even want it to. These things were meant to be left blank. There is no need to know what had become of Redwall, to it's populous, and why. No need to know why the sword had been taken away, and why it had taken so long to come back. No need to know who the bringer of the sword is, how he fits in with all of this, or his identity and species, as I revealed nothing about him save his gender. No need at all. You may ask if you must, but don't anticipate an answer. I only want you all to know one thing about this fanfic upon reading it. And I think that's obvious enough.

R.I.P. Brian Jacques.