Evie has never been more than acquaintances with Hotaru, but even her heart aches at the woman’s appearance. They are all surrounded by so much loss, and Evie is selfishly grateful that everyone she loves has made it out alive. But as she stares out over the pyres, she is keenly aware of just how much she has lost regardless.
As Talyson approaches them with the torch, Evie gives him a grateful look. Things are not fixed between them, but he has been tentatively more understanding, more respectful, and Evie appreciates that. Her hand doesn’t waver as Deimos hands the torch to her, and her steps are measured as she lights the other half of the pyres, Deimos’ words washing over her as she does. Turning in the lull of his words, torch still in hand and casting shadows over half her face, Evie doesn’t pause to consider what she seeks to say. Though Sam was always the most eloquent on paper, Evie has always had the power to speak from the heart. These men and women deserve that much, and she won’t withhold in fear of saying the wrong thing.
[say]“The ache of every absence, every loss, is a testament to the love and respect we had for these people we say goodbye to now. Every time we hurt in their absence, remembering the space they used to fill and who they used to be, it is a way of keeping their memories with us. They continue on - in us.”[/say] Her eyes prickle, but do not fill. Evie believes too fully in her own words to cry. [say]“And even after generations, when their names and stories are hazy or forgotten, Halo itself will remember them. Will owe them - for standing. For holding the line.”[/say] The Shields fall anew in the corners of her vision, and her throat trembles with a shaky swallow. [say]“May we all strive to be as brave as them. May their spirits embolden us as we carry their fire in our hearts, keeping them alive in the only way we can. Never to truly die, as any flame in Halo is meant to.”[/say] Turning, Evie includes the torch her hand into the pyre before her, and echoes Deimos. [say]“May they burn brightly.”[/say]
As Talyson approaches them with the torch, Evie gives him a grateful look. Things are not fixed between them, but he has been tentatively more understanding, more respectful, and Evie appreciates that. Her hand doesn’t waver as Deimos hands the torch to her, and her steps are measured as she lights the other half of the pyres, Deimos’ words washing over her as she does. Turning in the lull of his words, torch still in hand and casting shadows over half her face, Evie doesn’t pause to consider what she seeks to say. Though Sam was always the most eloquent on paper, Evie has always had the power to speak from the heart. These men and women deserve that much, and she won’t withhold in fear of saying the wrong thing.
[say]“The ache of every absence, every loss, is a testament to the love and respect we had for these people we say goodbye to now. Every time we hurt in their absence, remembering the space they used to fill and who they used to be, it is a way of keeping their memories with us. They continue on - in us.”[/say] Her eyes prickle, but do not fill. Evie believes too fully in her own words to cry. [say]“And even after generations, when their names and stories are hazy or forgotten, Halo itself will remember them. Will owe them - for standing. For holding the line.”[/say] The Shields fall anew in the corners of her vision, and her throat trembles with a shaky swallow. [say]“May we all strive to be as brave as them. May their spirits embolden us as we carry their fire in our hearts, keeping them alive in the only way we can. Never to truly die, as any flame in Halo is meant to.”[/say] Turning, Evie includes the torch her hand into the pyre before her, and echoes Deimos. [say]“May they burn brightly.”[/say]
