Seeker

Lian drew the sheet over her mother’s cold face and sat back on her heels, too drained to cry any more.  The months of terror and grief were finally catching up to her.  Lian didn’t know if there was anyone left alive that she knew.

They’re all dead. Lian shook her head and lay her face down in her arms.  Her shoulders shook with dry sobs and her vision blurred as the last tears were wrung from her exhausted eyes.

Mother promised me she wouldn’t leave.  They all did.

There wasn’t anything left for her here.  The deaths had wreaked a terrible havoc on her hometown.  When the Usurper’s army had passed through a long five years ago and had forcibly bonded every able-bodied man into service, there had still been hope.

As the years ticked by and the only return news was of death and defeat, the strained spirit of her town slowly eroded until all that was left was despair and apathy.  The first plague that raged through the town was a surprise, and people rallied, then, to fight back.  The second plague gutted the strength and morale of the survivors and the third stripped all but the young and strong of vitality and life.

Lian was one of the few still alive.  Nobody she knew was alive.  Her mother, bless her, was the last one, and had contracted the plague tending to a neighbor.  She hadn’t lasted a week after that.

This place is cursed. Lian lifted her head and dried her eyes.  When her mother fell ill, she had packed her bag and began the long vigil until the ultimate and inevitable end.  Now, she had nothing to wait for.

She swung her bag onto her back and picked up her walking stick from beside the door.  With a last wave at her mother’s shrouded corpse, Lian left the home of her birth forever.

Outside her home was a graveyard in truth.  The church grounds had filled in the first wave of illness and people had taken to burying their dead in the family garden plot.  Nobody had the strength or will to grow vegetables any more.

Lian wrapped her scarf around her head, hiding her long blonde hair, and set out resolutely for the North.  Perhaps things would be different there.

She had nothing of value beyond a pair of earrings and the food in her bag.  The food was stale bread, hard cheese and dusty meat, too dry to hold any taste.  The earrings were amethyst, with no real worth beyond the parting words of the only man she would ever love.

“The most valuable thing in the world is not riches and gems, Lian.  It is the love you hold for yourself and others that makes those worth having.  Take care of yourself, you are worth more than a million fine gems to me.  These earrings are valuable as money, but their real value is their memory of my undying love for you.”

He gave her the right earring, and kept the other for himself.  “When I return,” he said, “We’ll match the earrings together.  Until that time, I will always be with you, and like these earrings, will never be complete until we are back together.”

The kiss that followed broke her heart.  The soldiers kicked down the door seconds later and dragged him out, and his last words were lost in the shouting of the soldiers.

Lian fingered the earrings in her ears and whispered, “I’ll always love you.” A tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it away absently.  She didn’t notice when she was crying these days, it happened so often.  It didn’t always use to be like that.

There was one last place she had to go before she left this desolate place forever.  Lian took a turn off the main road Northward and headed up into the hills.

It wasn’t a long walk, but it was hard going despite the many times she had taken the trip.  She followed the barely worn path, going by memory more often than not, eyes fogging occasionally with tears.  The last time she had been up here was with Daniel, a week before he was taken.

She got lost, and it took an extra two hours to find the place she was looking for.  The hills to the West ended in ragged cliffs and the spot Lian had found years ago was high at the top of the peaks.

She scrambled down a short slope then hung a left along a narrow projection in the cliff face.  After a minute of tight balancing that set her heart hammering, she reached the far side of the projection and stepped off onto flat ground.

She looked around the familiar alcove with tears running freely down her face.  The spring on the far side was still active, sending out its clean stream sparkling over the side of the cliff, ruddy in the setting sun.  The dense grass waved gently in the breeze.

A quiet stole over Lian’s heart and she took a shuddering breath.  The magic of the secret ledge always had a calming effect on her, and this time was no different.  Three steep cliffs going upwards around her, with a steep cliff dropping miles down to the valley below completing the enclosure lent a certain sense of security.  Nothing could happen to her here.

She spent the night next to the spring, longing for Daniel’s presence and feeling the heartache of long separation.  His last words, lost in the clamor, always haunted her.  What had he tried to say that she had missed?  She always thought he had said he would come back for her, but the wars were long since over.  If he had intended to return, he would have.

She fell asleep wondering if he was dead, and even the tranquility of the alcove couldn’t sooth her torn heart.

Rain slashed down in a blinding torrent and Lian pulled her cloak around herself tighter.  Not like it did anything in this downpour, but at least it kept fresh cold water from running in.  Her boots sucked at her sodden socks and the thick mud on the ground threatened to pull them off.  She was wet from head to toe, and the chill was sending shivers rampant through her.

She had to find a warm place to dry off.  The rundown tavern she had just passed might suffice, but she hadn’t the money to pay for a room, nor the means for a meal.  They wouldn’t let her stay just for a spot next to the fire.

She trudged onward, looking for a spot under a hedge she could curl up in for the night.  There wasn’t anything promising, and she felt her spirits drop even lower.

The North was exactly like her hometown.  People were despondent, nobody had any hope for anything.  It was like the entire land was under a spell.  Nobody was interested in talking, nobody had seen anyone of the description she gave for Daniel.  Nobody even cared.  A few shook their heads sadly, but their own apathy crushed any thought they might once have had for hope or love.

She passed through the sorry town without stopping.  A few people cast despairing looks at her, but she didn’t respond.  They wouldn’t help her, even had she asked.

Twenty minutes down the road the temperature dropped again and the pouring rain turned into a thick slurry.  This was bad, Lian knew.  She had to get indoors now, or she would die.  She broke into an unsteady jog, limbs too stiff to move faster.  A thick fog rose from the ground and obscured everything, to the point where Lian couldn’t see more than a dozen feet in front of her.

The farm house came out of the gloom and she almost ran headlong into the side of it.  She staggered to a halt, surprised by the sudden appearance of civilization.  She was shivering and found that starting her body moving again took a huge effort.  By the time she got to the door, her hair was frozen to her face and she was shivering uncontrollably.  Her breath fogged in front of her face for a split second and mingled with the heavy ground mist before the pounding rain washed it away.  She noted with a corner of her mind that it was odd the ground fog was still in the air.  The rain should have washed it away long ago.

It took all her strength to climb the steps to the front door, and it was almost more than she could do to knock.  The roar of the rain drowned out the sound of her fist on the door and the last of her spirit broke.  She would never be able to make enough noise to wake up the people inside.  She knocked again, weaker this time then leaned against the door, exhausted and frozen.

She sagged as the last of her strength left her legs and she slid to the porch.  Lian leaned her head against the door and gave up hope on life.  The poor farmer would find her dead in the morning, frozen against his door.

Consciousness was a fleeting vesper, trickling around in Lian’s mind, playing tricks on her.  Daniel opened the door and smiled down at her.  The sun came out and millions of ants climbed over her skin and started biting.  She slapped, but found her arms pinned.  Daniel just watched her and smiled, and then morphed into an aging farmer, then into her mom.

“She’s coming back,” her mom said, in a male voice, and Lian shook her head.  It was too much, and the flimsy grip she had on awareness slipped through her grasp.  Lian fell into a spinning pool of blackness, filled with nipping ants and women speaking with male voices.

Lian opened her eyes with an effort and looked around the room.  It was small, barely big enough for a bed and a chest of drawers, but the fireplace was warm and the comforter on her was wonderful.  The door opened and the aging farmer from her dream stepped into the room.

She fought down a flash of grief.  Daniel was so close in that half-dream.

The farmer sat on her bed and smiled at her, and it was a nice smile, a caring smile.  The first one she had seen since her mother died.  Tentatively, she smiled back.

“You gave us a scare back there,” he said quietly.  “How are you doing now?”

Lian opened her mouth and had to try twice before she made any sound.  “I’m okay.  Hungry.”

“Of course.  How thoughtless of me.  I’ll be right back.”

He got up and walked out of the room.  She noticed he had a limp, a bad one, and it hurt him something awful to move at all.  That he would go through that to get her some food was touching.

He came back balancing a bowl on a tray.  “Here you are.  It isn’t much, but it’ll warm you.”

He set the tray down on Lian’s lap and helped her eat the thin broth with a few vegetables floating forlornly in it.

“My name is Mike,” he said absently as he helped her, “It’s been a long time since someone has come to my door needing help.  How are you now?”

The broth was surprisingly good and Lian managed another smile.  “Its wonderful, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  I’m sorry to pry, but what is your name?”

“It’s Lian, and it’s no problem.  You saved my life.”

“Lian.” He cocked his head and smiled at her sideways.  “That’s an interesting name.”

Lian smiled at him and nodded.  “My mom made it up.”

“Well, Lian, I have another question if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“What are you doing?”

“Doing?” Lian’s smile faltered.  “What do you mean?”

“Doing.  Like what are you trying to accomplish?”

Lian frowned.  I actually don’t know… She found herself talking before she really thought her answer out.  “I’m looking for the most valuable thing in the world.”

“Is that right.  Funny, you’re not the first to be looking for that.  Is there some kind of legend you are chasing after?”

“You might say that.” Lian sighed.  “A dream, more likely.”

“A dream, huh.”  The old man smiled at her and shook his head.  “Young people.  Dreams are a little more substantial than you might think.”

“Why do you say that?”

“What do you think the most valuable thing in the world is?” he asked, ignoring her question.

She took out the earring that Daniel had given her years ago and played with it, as was her wont when she was thinking.

“That’s an interesting piece of jewelry,” the farmer commented.

“Yeah, I only have half of it,” Lian explained.

“That’s odd.  Well.  Half a set of earrings can’t be very valuable.  I’d imagine the value would be much greater if the two earrings were together.”

Lian nodded and set the earring down on the side table.  “Yes, it’s worthless by itself.”

“So,” the farmer asked again, “what do you think is truly valuable?”

Lian wrinkled her forehead, trying to think.  What had she meant when she said that?  “Well, I guess it would be something insubstantial.”

“Love?” he hazarded.

Lian stared at him.  That was what she was looking for all this time.  She had never even realized what it was she was looking for.

Love.

“Yes,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.  “Love.”

The old man got up and walked to the door.  “I should let you sleep, Lian.  Have a good night.”

As he walked out, Lian drifted off to sleep.  As the door closed, she almost heard him say, “That’s what he said too.”  She opened her eyes and sat up with a start, but he was gone.  For all she knew, it was her imagination.  Sleep caught up with her almost before her head hit the pillow and she dreamed of Daniel for the first time in a year.

Lian kissed the old farmer on the cheek and pulled the hood of her new cloak up over her blonde hair.  “Thank you so much.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said, his wrinkled face creased into a wide smile.

Lian turned away and stepped down off the porch.  Something was nagging her and she turned back around.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lian started.  She stopped talking, unsure of how to ask him.

“What is it?”

“You said something,” Lian stopped again, feeling like an idiot.

“I’ve said a lot of things in my life,” he said with a smile.  “What piece of that do you have a question about?”

“When you left me that first night, I thought I heard you say something.  What was it?”

“Oh, I don’t remember.  That was a week ago.  My memory isn’t he best these days.”  He said it somberly, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.

“Please?”

“What did you think I said?” he asked.

“That’s what he said too,” Lian said.

“Ahh.”

“What did you mean?”

“What do you think I meant?”

Lian laughed, a slightly hysterical outburst.  “I’ve been thinking about it non-stop for a week.  I have so many guesses, it’s been driving me crazy.”

He laughed, a low chuckle.  “Follow your heart, Lian.”  He waved, turned into his house and shut the door.

Lian stood on his porch for five minutes, mind running in tight circles like a hamster unable to decide if he like the wheel or the food bowl best.  His parting statement hung in her mind like a beacon and she finally turned from his door, her destination blazoned in her mind like the reassuring glow from a lighthouse.

She turned back at the end of his lane and took a last look at the house.  He was back on his porch and she waved.  He waved back and she heard him shout, reedy over the distance, “Follow your heart, Lian.”

She waved to him again and turned back to the road.  She took five steps then suddenly realized she had forgotten her earring on the side table where she had left it when she first arrived.  Lian turned back and jogged back to the farm house.

She knocked on the door and stuck her head inside when it swung open by itself.

“Hello?” she called.  Nobody answered, so she stepped into the house.  “Hello?”

A thick layer of dust on the floor stirred up under her footsteps and she sneezed.  She looked down and saw the clear outline of her footprints in the heavy dust on the floor.

“What?” Lian asked, confused.

She looked around the house and was shocked to find it literally falling apart.  Cupboard doors hung half-off their hinges, once smooth counters were warped and cracked, a spider web hung in an upset pitcher, with a thick layer of dust over everything.

Her heart pounded as she looked around frantically.  At first glace, it looked like the house had aged a hundred years between the time she left and the time she set foot back inside.

“Hello?” she called again, her fear obvious in her voice.

The house was empty.  Nothing had lived her for years and years.  She walked into the house and something on the kitchen table caught her eye.  She hurried over and found a note on the table, pristine among the ruin with a man’s spidery handwriting saying “Follow your heart,” and her earring stuck through the bottom.

She grabbed the earring and hurried out of the house, thoroughly scared.  Illogically, she half feared the house could disappear while she was in it.

She got out of the house safely enough and breathed a sigh of relief.  She turned back and looked at the house.  It looked the same as it had the first time she saw it, and she wondered if the old farmer was a fever dream.

The new cloak on her shoulders belied that, and she shivered.  This was one mystery she firmly decided not to pursue.  Regardless, her heart had set her path.  The long years of wandering were over.  She set out down the road, earring safe in her pocket where it belonged.

Her home town was a true graveyard now.  There literally wasn’t a single soul left alive in the forsaken place.  Lian stopped next to her mother’s grave and looked down at it, sadness heavy on her heart.  The path her heart had set her was at an end.  She had half-expected to see Daniel standing on the front steps waiting for her, but only the ravens lived here now.

She turned away, unwilling to have the old grief resurface and wandered blindly through the town, visiting her old haunts, kicking dust bunnies in the vacant marketplace, and finally found herself outside of Daniel’s house.

Nobody had touched it since the day when Daniel and so many others had been taken.  The shutters were askew, the porch was caving in and the roof sagged heavily.

His house looks like I feel, Lian thought sadly.  This place has nothing for me.  I’ve followed my heart to a dead end.

Lian turned heavily away from the house and walked out of the small ghost town, shoulders heavy with despair.

The small cliff-side alcove came to mind and suddenly she ached for its peace and tranquility.

Her steps quickened as her feet followed the familiar paths, now totally overgrown, until she was running through the forest heedless of where she was placing her feet.

She never saw the root that tripped her, just suddenly found herself tumbling head over heels through the dense ground foliage.  She banged her head on a root and laid there, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

What am I doing? She thought.  This is crazy.  Do you want to die out here in the woods?

She got up slowly, nursing her pounding head.  That impact with the root had shaken her badly.  The forest around her suddenly seemed threatening in the half-gloom.  Her heart started pounding and she swallowed the lump in her throat.

Good god.  What’s going on?

She retraced her steps until she found the path she was following.  It looked familiar, but she wasn’t as sure of it as she was earlier.  Lian walked down the trail, taking care to avoid the treacherous roots.  She reached the branch that led to the cliff-side and walked past the turning point twice before she spotted it and followed the path.

The precipice looked steeper than usual and the narrow ledge leading to the alcove seemed narrower than ever before.  Her heart was still hammering in her chest and her head swam.

What am I doing here? She asked herself.  This is crazy.  I’m dizzy and unsteady.  If I try to make the ledge, I’ll die. Her feet moved forward anyway, of their own accord and she found herself inching out along the ledge.  Now I know I’m crazy.

Her vision swam drunkenly and she reeled, but managed to hang onto the ledge.  A cascade of loose gravel rattled down the cliff and Lian clung to the cliff-side, listening to the gravel fall endlessly down the cliff.

The light clatter faded away into the distance before Lian could work up the courage to take another step.  Her fingers were cramped on their hand-holds and it took a serious effort to pry them loose.  Her vision was still wavering and her balance was totally haywire.

Carefully, Lian groped for the next handhold and found it.  She gripped it and tried to still her pounding heart.  She shifted her foot and choked back a scream as both feet lost their grip on the narrow ledge and she swung free, hanging by one hand.

With a Herculean effort she managed to pull herself up enough to find the next foothold.  Safe for the moment, she clung to the cold stone cliff face and tried to stop the racking sobs from shaking her off the cliff again.

It took long minutes before she got herself back under control enough to take the next step.  She worked her way down the ledge, not without further mishap, until she finally reached the alcove.

Lian collapsed in the deep grass, sobbing, all but blind from the tears and the crushing headache she had from hitting the root.  Every limb was shaking uncontrollably.  She lay in the grass, feeling her body slowly calm, but the pounding headache and the sickening swirling feeling remained.

She staggered to her feet and almost fell over as the dizziness struck again.  Lian caught herself and made her unsteady way to the spring.  She fell to her knees next to the clear stream and cupped some water in her hands.  Leaning over to drink it brought on an irresistible wave of nausea and she retched into the grass.

Her head swam and her vision tunneled.  Her stomach wouldn’t stop cramping and she gagged again as her body tried to reject everything she’d eaten in the last twenty-four hours.  A hand slipped on the slick rocks along the stream’s edge and she fell into the stream with a splash.

Lian sat up again with a gasp as the cold water shocked her and cleared her vision momentarily.  She fought to her feet and took half a step out of the stream before her vision tunneled again and another wave of dizziness stole the last of her orientation.

She reeled, then doubled over as another wave of nausea gripped her in its vice.  After the wave passed, she found herself on her knees.  She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but the swirling blackness persisted.

Follow your heart, indeed, she thought bitterly.

She crawled forward and her left hand didn’t land on anything.  She screamed as she fell forward and landed on her chest, head and shoulders over the precipice.

Her racing heart skipped a beat as the overwhelming emptiness made itself felt.  She couldn’t see, but the blind drop sat heavily in her mind, solid as the ground she was lying on.

I could end it now. The thought came unbidden and she shied from it in fear.  The endless wandering could be over at last, the thought continued.

No!  My heart isn’t dead yet. She fought back against the temptation violently, and searched her heart for the drive she’d been surviving on the last couple years.

Nothing flared back from the depths of her soul and a cold chill washed over her.

There isn’t anything left for me. The swirling blackness in front of her vision wavered and gave her a foggy glimpse of the bottomless drop right in front of her.

Her pounding head swam drunkenly and she dry retched over the edge of the cliff, not bothering to pull herself back.  The blackness in front of her eyes moved inward and she felt herself loosing consciousness.

The hand on her shoulder seemed to come from a different world, the gentle fingers brushing hair back from her face were ethereal.

“Don’t black out,” a voice ordered her sternly.

Cold water splashed on her face and the encroaching blackness receded slightly.  She opened her mouth to say something and a finger was laid across her lips.

“Not yet.  Be silent and focus now.”  Strong arms lifted her like a doll and carried her away from the cliff edge.  Her feet dragged, body limp as a damp rag.  She couldn’t muster the strength to walk, so let herself be carried to the spring.

“Stand, stay awake,” the voice ordered and she gathered the last threads of her will and managed to stand, if a bit unsteadily.  Funny.  The voice seemed familiar. Must be my imagination.

The double-handful of water that splashed into her face washed away the last sticky webs of darkness and she gasped in shock.  Life flowed back into her limbs and her stance steadied.

“Easy now,” the voice said, gentle, yet firm.  “Take a drink.”

A cup was pressed against her lips and she gulped, and then gasped as fiery liquor raged down her throat.  Its warmth spread through her like a wave and she shivered involuntarily.

“There you go.  Down here now, lets get that blood washed off your face.”

Hands guided her down, splashed water on her face.  Gentle fingertips massaged her eyes and Lian felt caked blood wash away.  Her eyes opened and she realized her eyes had been glued shut by a run of blood from the smarting cut in her scalp.

She blinked the water out of her eyes and looked up at the person who had brought her back from the brink.  Clouds covered the moon and the trees overshadowing the alcove blocked any light the stray star might have cast.  She couldn’t make out anything but the dark silhouette of the man.

He moved over her again and, with a soft cloth, wiped her forehead.  He worked it over her skin for a moment then bent back over the spring.  As he rung the cloth out in the water, he said, “This is an odd place for someone with a nasty concussion to come wandering.”

Lian smiled to herself.  Like anyone else could say anything about her being here.  This was her alcove.  “I’m looking for something.”

“Is that right.  Over the cliff?”  He finished washing out he cloth and went back to work on her face.

“Ow,” she muttered, as he touched the egg-sized lump on her head.

“Got to clean it,” he apologized, and then rubbed it again.

“Not over the cliff,” Lian corrected him as he bent back over the spring again.  “In my heart.”

He didn’t say anything, but silently went back to work on her cut.

“I’m looking for the most valuable thing in the world,” Lian said, almost petulantly.

His hands checked, and then continued as if she hadn’t said anything.

“Did you find it?” he asked.

“No,” Lian said, sadly.

“Funny,” he said, and sat back on his heels.  “I was looking for something similar.”

“Did you find it?” Lian asked politely.

“Yes.”

“Really?  Where?”  She hadn’t expected an affirmative.

“In the most unlikely place,” he said.

“Oh.  Where was that?”

“Ah, that would be telling,” he said, and Lian could hear the smile in his voice.

“What is your most valuable thing in the world?” Lian tried.

The man smiled, and this time Lian could see it, even in the gloom.  “It’s hard to put words to.  I’d have to describe it.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Lian pointed out.

“True, that.  Okay, I’ll give it a shot.”  He leaned back over her and pulled some damp hair off her face.  “Blonde,” he started, and cocked his head, thinking.  “Blue eyes, beautiful.”

“A girl?”

“Not just any girl.  Had the most wonderful name.”

“That’s nice.”  Lian sighed inwardly and felt her empty heart ache.  How nice of him to be able to find what he was searching for.  If only the fates would be so kind to her.  Daniel was such a small needle in the giant haystack that was the world.

As Lian looked up at him, lost in her heartache, the clouds parted and washed the alcove in a blue light.  The man leaning over her was illuminated for a split second before the clouds closed back up again.

“Daniel!” Lian cried and threw her arms around his neck.  She shivered as his hands encircled her and she lost herself in his embrace.

An immense surge of elation washed over Lian and she found herself crying, from joy this time, instead of the pain of heartache like she had the last several years.

“Oh, Daniel, where have you been?” She pulled back and looked up at him, his face once again occluded by the clouds.

“Looking for you,” he said with a smile.  “I had totally given up, you know.”

“So had I.”  Lian wrapped her arms around his neck again and kissed him.

“It’s funny…” Daniel said thoughtfully.  “I ran into this old man.  Kind of an odd chap, but nice enough.  He gave me shelter during a storm.”

Lian looked up at him, surprised.  “So did I,” she said.

“Anyway, he gave me some soup and a warm place to recover, and then sent me on my way with some advice.”

“Was the soup a thin broth with a couple vegetables?” Lian asked slowly.

Daniel thought for a moment then said, “Yes, actually.  I remember now.  How did you know?”

“Had a limp?”

“He did, a bad one.”

“Where, exactly, did you run into this man?” Lian asked, disbelieving the coincidence.

“Well, that’s the part I don’t fully understand.  I kind of ran into it out of the rain.  I could have sworn there weren’t any farms around, but there was this house.  I was practically dead when I got to the door and had given up when he opened it and brought me inside.”

As Daniel narrated his experience with the old farmer, Lian had a disquieting feeling.  When Daniel had finished, describing exactly the same thing to her that she had experienced in her stay, she asked, “What happened afterward?”

Daniel paused.  “I’m not sure.  He went back inside after wishing me off.  I remembered something I had forgotten and turned back to get it.  The house was empty, dusty, like nobody had lived there for ages.  There was no sign of the old man, just a note next to the thing I had forgotten, reminding me to follow my heart.  Weird.  It creeped me out so I left right away.”

Lian nodded.  “The same thing happened to me too.  What did you forget?”

Daniel shifted, embarrassed, and then said, “The earring.”

“That’s what I forgot, too,” Lian admitted.  She fished it out of her pocket and held it up.  “See, I didn’t forget it though.”

Daniel leaned down and inspected the earring.  He stood back up and pulled his earring out and matched it next to hers.

“Lian, we have the wrong earrings.”

“What?” Lian asked, surprised.

“Look at them,” Daniel said, bemused.

Lian looked up at them and blinked.  “I’m holding the left earring,” she said in amazement.  “How?”

“I’ve no idea,” Daniel said.

“Daniel…” Lian said, “do you think…”

“The house?”

“Is it possible?”

“Do you have any other explanation?” Daniel asked.

“Its impossible…” Lian said.

“So was that house,” Daniel pointed out.

“You know,” Lian said, “he brought us together.  I was never going to come back here for the rest of my life.”

“I came back a year ago, found it totally deserted and gave up ever finding you.  I thought you had died in the plagues.”  Daniel said soberly.

“I’m not about to argue with the miracle, though,” Lian smiled.

“No, I think not.”  Daniel kissed her then brushed her hair back to expose her ears.  “I’ve been waiting years to do this,” he said, as he slipped the earrings into the holes in Lian’s ears.

“I never thought you would get the chance,” Lian said, surprised to find herself crying again.  She kissed him again.  “Now what,” she asked, minutes later.

“You have a concussion, Lian.  You can’t fall asleep for at least twenty-four hours,” Daniel said seriously.

“What am I going to do to stay awake for that long?” Lian asked, worried.

“I’m sure we can think of something,” Daniel said with a wicked grin and a low laugh.

Lian smiled up at him.  “Good idea.”  She kissed him slowly then smiled up at him again.

Her heart sang in her chest and she felt the weight of years of solitude lifting in a wave.  She had found the love of her life at long last.

Despite her doubt, her heart had led her true.