WHEN THINGS FALL APART

Summary: Caithe was too late to save Eir from herself. This is the aftermath. Zojja-centric. Dark fic. AU. Time-travel.

Chapter two: They Are Gone

Author's Notes:

s/9535264/1/Things-Fall-Apart

The link is cut off halfway, but just go to Progeny Ex Machina's oneshot Things Fall Apart. Read that, and then come here. This is the continuation of that story. Please don't mind the switch from past to present tense between us.

I did get permission from Progeny Ex Machina to continue their story.

The last paragraph:

"I know," chokes Zojja, rocking slightly against the wall. Garm quietly pads over and rests his head on her feet, and they sit alone among the wreckage of things that no longer matter. "I know."

Diclaimer: I don't own anything related to Guild Wars 2 or Edge of Destiny.

Okay, here's the story now:

They two stay like that for some time. The voice had gone silent, but Zojja keeps repeating those words.

"I know... I know."

She lets herself mourn, the mourning she had denied herself for near six years. She weeps for her mentor, for Snaff, for what he had represented in her life; encouragement, friendship; a mentor, teacher, friend. She weeps for his death.

She had not let herself mourn - 'There is too much to do,' she had told herself, 'his work to continue.'

But the gap had been there, the void. She'd walled it of, then - she didn't want to face it just yet. She had thrown herself into chasing after Kudu, stopping (for a time) his experiements with dragon energies.

But she can hide no longer - Snaff's legacy had not been his ideas or his inventions. No, his legacy was left with her. Snaff's legacy was a mission - make Tyria a better place, starting with the dragons.

At the back of her mind, Zojja had known this - and also that she couldn't do it alone, however much she tried. But that, too, she had ignored.

And now she weeps bitterly for her stubborn ignorance - ignorance that had gotten Eir killed. By Icebrood, no less.

So now she weeps not just for Snaff's death, but for the old Destiny's Edge. For what they once were. For Eir. For Caithe, for Logan and Rytlock. For her bad - no, terrible - example. For the blame and accusation For the suspicion sown through the group that had hit like a sledgehammer.

For the five years of estrangement between the remaining members that eventually led to Eir's - and perhaps Logan and Rytlock's - untimely deaths. That led to Caithe giving up, to her surrendering to the truth of Destiny's Edge; it will never be again.

When Caithe gives up, it is obvious that Destiny's Edge will never reunite, but now it is inevitable - there is no one else.

Garm is with her. Zojja. The one whose words had driven Eir - his companion - to suicide. Suicide, yes, though thinly veiled as a heroic effort.

Zojja weeps for all of them.

Garm whimpers, and Zojja tentatively reaches out to pat his head.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to the room - empty but for the two mourning their companions. "I'm sorry."

Zojja closes her eyes and leans against the wall, remembering the old Destiny's Edge.

She really had been good friends with Eir before Snaff died. 'And the 'before Snaff died' shouldn't exist in that sentence,' Zojja thinks bitterly. 'We should have come closer together rather than separating.'

Eir is dead. Dead.

Zojja hadn't though of the implications of Eir's death.

'We needed her!' Zojja realizes. 'Her strategic mind... we need the whole team against the Elder Dragons. Logan, Rytlock, Caithe - we have to try, though. Maybe Caithe can - but Caithe's gone now. Caithe gave up. Caithe! Caithe never gives up! And Eir is dead, Logan and Rytlock most likely dead or hiding... Destiny's Edge is over. Why couldn't Caithe have gotten to Eir sooner? Why did Eir have to go and die when we needed her? Why - no. I'm laying blame again. That's where this whole mess started. I'll not do it again. It's my fault Eir is dead, my fault Caithe went to Nightmare, my fault Destiny's Edge will never be again.' Zojja realizes she is echoing Eir - it's my fault - but it is, this time, she argues with herself.

That's what Eir thought, though. No, it's Kralkatorrik's fault.

Destiny's Edge is gone, and the Elder Dragons are still a threat.

Zojja realizes there is no hope, and she despairs. No hope, now. What wouldn't she give for a chance to do it over again? She has failed Snaff. Failed him.

But such things are unchangeable. Snaff and Eir are dead, Caithe has gone to Nightmare, and Logan and Rytlock are gone. No hope. Destiny's Edge was the closest chance of defeating and Elder Dragon, and it is gone.

A sarcastic laugh bibbles out of Zojja as she surveys the broken remains of her latest invention - the MEGA-LIT cannon. Just a prototype, so far. But Zojja feels she's missing something vital if she hopes to defeat Elder Dragons with it. Not that she'll ever even get close enough, now.

Garm raises his head to look at the madly laughing asura. It is a mirthless laugh, almot bordering on insanity. A laugh which soon dissolves into memories and grief for what could have been, what had been lost.