Epilogue - Dreamless Solace
Anemone almost collapsed right after she had stepped through the door to the apartment in Kithoi Wards.
It was a long walk from the Presidium, she knew should've take the shuttle, but she didn't want to. The coldness of the catwalks would bring her solace.
She remembered how she never had to sleep at night; she was always the one who volunteered to stay on vigil when her Suns squad took their rest. She remembered there was a Turian who never had to sleep as well, and that was how they get to started to talk with each other.
And that Turian was just trying to seekĀ retaliationĀ in destroying her a while ago.
Anemone cleared her dry throat and walked towards the refrigerator to get her cocktail. Erebus wasn't home, and her right arm felt painful as if it was going to fall off. It was an unusual sensation; she never felt pain, neither physical nor emotional. But now she felt something was shattered, forever lost in the void.
"Is this what you've been feeling, Raine?" she uttered and took a seat at the window sill. She knew the view well. The lilac, starry wind of the Serpent Nebula was one of the favorite things she was fond of. It must've been a coincidence that Raine had chosen an apartment with such view, Anemone was sure of it, because she had never told anyone what she really liked.
Then again, it could've been their memories were mending into each other....
She took another deep sigh before closing her eyes and leaned her head on the star-lit window glass.
Raine opened her eyes, it felt like a long sleep; dreamy, and tiresome.
She silently looked at her right hand; there was blue spatter on her knuckles and torn bandages. A half-empty glass filled with blood orange cocktail rested beside her.
Raine didn't know what had happened to Anemone, but whatever it was, she must've been feeling anguished. Raine's own intuition had told her so.
She summoned her Omni-tool to check if Anemone had replied to her notes. To her relief, her unseen sister had replied to some. More importantly, she had spotted a name on the journal.
"Vera," Raine uttered as she ran her finger onto the screen. She needed to feel the touch to reassure herself that it was real. "Veronica... Veronica........."
She did have a name, perhaps it's her real name even. She felt content, and rejoiced, but there was also a sense of hollowness, something was shattered and would never be able to find again.
She looked into her own reflection on the glass. Her red eyes gleamed softly onto the reflectionās darker eyes.
Ā "Anemone," she reached out a hand to run down the reflection's cheek. "How am I going to live without you?"
Her own reflection looked sadly to her in silence.
Raine lowered her glance in a mournfully. SheĀ shouldĀ have faced many things on her own, not relying on Anemone as her umbrella. If she could live moreĀ independently; to speak up her own minds more boldly; or even to pursue the shadows so they could shine like Anemone's plumes....
She looked at the tattered and burned tips of her hair.
She walked into her room and returned to the window sill with aĀ scissorĀ in her hand.
If Anemone was going toĀ disappear, then the worst thing that could ever happen would be having nobody there to remember her existence. Anemone was also an individual, and someone should remember her. She wouldn't count on Altair in doing it. He has lost his memories... perhaps would even be confused of why Anemone punched him so hard... that he had bled......
I'm sorry. But this is the only way.
She needed more strength to protect those she loves, she need the shadows to become her plume, even if it means staining her hands with more blood. She shall become Anemone, and accept her fate as what she was made to be. There might be squalls andĀ mercilessĀ storms, but at least from now on, whenever she sees her reflection, Anemone will be seeing her.
She didn't bother to sweep up the fallen locks. It was her lastĀ remnantĀ to this house. She has nothing important to take with her, aside from Minerva, it was her Spirit Bird, her solace; Minerva was one of the many reasons for her to hang on.
She stopped by the doorstep to give her home one final look.
