[mistral4543]

Mistral

It seems that… Master is finally… gaining some sense back.

She bit her lip, blinking her eyes as she reached out to caress the well-weathered feathers she had been stroking for the past few years. Indeed, Isabeau, he looks as if he is finally headed towards some form of sanity. As her dearest companion’s chest heaved slowly and with difficulty, she turned away, trying to stifle a sob.

I hate to leave you… Mistress. The once-beady eye that had once guided the bumbling ranger to a lone fighter-mage, was now weary, half-closed.

You have been so good to me, my friend. She clenched her fists, her dark brown eyes rapidly turning pinkish. You can call me by any name, you know. I have to turn back, turn to look at her before it is too late. And so, she glanced at her trusty familiar. But oh, how difficult it was to stop herself from emitting an involuntary sob!

You will… get through… this… Mis..tral. The message was getting fainter, and she nodded, patting the feathers reassuringly. No more words, Isabeau. I know. She felt her heart would explode very soon, if not immediately. You just listen, Isabeau. At least, she could still communicate by telepathy with this special friend. With humans, there was no such bonus.

We have traveled together, gone through many trials and dangers. And never once have you failed me, Isabeau. Was it a stranger who could speak so calmly, in the face of an impending separation, eternal separation at that? Knowing you has been my greatest privilege, and I want you to know that I will never forget you. The tears were now streaming down her cheeks, but she would not uncheck them. No, what was more important now than to hold her best friend with both hands at this critical moment? Rest well, and worry not about me, Isabeau. I will be fine. And she fought against the shadows of loneliness that were already creeping towards her, for this intelligent bird would detect any trace of untruth, even now.

We will meet again, Isabeau, in heaven. She clung on to the wings firmly but gently. Don’t you even try to escape me then. She was rambling on, as if compensating for all the moments of silence that had passed between them over the years. There seemed so much to say, and too little time to say it all. She could only hope that Isabeau knew everything, even if she had not time to finish it.

But it was useless, really, continuing. She saw that the moment was fast approaching, if not already here. Her beloved companion was unconscious, the breathing was going… going… gone. The warmth from the bird was flowing through her hands back to herself, as if it were a last parting gift to keep herself company for the rest of her life.

Goodbye, Isabeau… my dearest friend. Numbly, she turned her attention to the ground beside the dead hawk and began to dig a grave out of her bare hands.

Some distance away, a figure observed the ritual that followed.

[ 01-12-2006, 08:25 PM: Message edited by: mistral4543 ]