In Memoriam

Jace is gone, slipped away in Lena's arms early yesterday morning. We are all broken-hearted, of course, and Lena is devastated. She is the strongest woman I know, and today I have seen her break. The four of us are all 86, nearing 87, and Jace was the strongest, physically.

It was his heart that went, in the end-- the man with the biggest heart of all of us, and it killed him.

Lucian is taking his death hard. They were brothers, in spirit if not in actuality, and best friends. While Lena and I have led our world out of chaos, Lucian and Jace have supported us and been the reason we could do what we did for our families.

Lena is ready to go home, too, I know, and even I am weary.

We have spent our years well, and now that the father of the new world is asleep, perhaps it is our turn to rest, as well.

***

Lena passed this morning. She sat up in bed, and I came to her. She looked me straight in the eye, spoke clearly and fiercely. "Is it my time?" she asked, and I knew she wanted to hear a "Yes."

But I couldn't give it to her. She seemed so strong, so healthy.

Then Lena grabbed my hand, and I marveled that we had both lived to see our hands grow so weathered by the years. She placed it over her heart, and I felt its fierce beating, too fast to be sustained.

"My heart is giving out, love," she tells me, and there is no fear in her sharp green eyes. "Without my Jace, you knew it would. Tell my Melody to be strong. Tell your Jasmine to hold on. They are carrying our families now."

"Oh dearest friend," I wept. "Who will I be without you?"

"Who you have always been, my Phaedra," she tells me, a single tear sliding slowly down her cheek. "The mother of the world."

"No, Lena," I say, holding her hand to my heart instead so she can feel its steady beat. "That's you. It has always been you."

She is gone soon after, surrounded by children and grandchildren.

And in the corner of the room, Skye, the young mother we found three weeks back. She is pregnant again, now, and she holds her daugher's hand in hers. She does not cry at once, but I see her, later, in her husband's arms, shaking with sobs, and I remember how it was Lena who first held out her hand to help Skye to her feet in our world.

And I know.

I'm ready to follow Lena home.