Warrior's Pain (Cadi Warriors Book 4)(93)

“The linen’s new life wasn’t always easy. Sometimes it was stained and needed washing. Sometimes it got torn and needed mending. But the linen served its purpose proudly, and was happy, till the day it was cut into bits, shredded and blended into a watery grave. It did not understand how it could serve so faithfully only to come to this terrible end.”

“When the linen awoke, it found itself reborn as paper, bound in a volume with words written upon its pages. It was hard to fathom being so different and having a new purpose. But the paper was again proud as it was carried into the sunshine and read. It was happy, sharing the knowledge inscribed on its pages.”

“I get it,” Riley said as she cast her Mémère a watery smile.

Riley had cursed fate. She’d asked why me, and wondered what she’d done to deserve the hand she’d been dealt. She tried to help others and get ahead in life, but always thought her efforts amounted to nothing. Except she’d been wrong.

“The story is never over. Sometimes it’s painful, and we think all is lost, but there is always purpose.”

“I’ve been so angry at mom and Jay, and existence in general,” Riley exhaled. “I couldn’t understand why they refused to get their shit together. Why they continued to hurt me. I thought that if they loved me as much as I loved them, they’d find the strength to stop destroying our family. Because I’d walk through fire for them. But that wasn’t how they were made, was it.”

“No, ma fille. Life isn’t fair. Some of us persevere, grow stronger and more resilient, as we struggle beneath the same sun that burns those around us. With that strength comes responsibility, but you already know that. It’s why you beat yourself up, and make yourself crazy. It’s not necessary, ma petite fille. You bolster those around you with your efforts, successful or not. And in the end, that’s what makes a difference. It seems unfair to shoulder such a heavy burden. But what else in life, besides our labor of love, gives us purpose, and joy?”

Riley sighed and nodded.

“I’m just so tired, Mémère.” Riley looked up at the screen, to see the scene where Cyprian carried her through the esplanade to the private room, then admitted the truth. “I just thought I found someone to help me share the burden.” Riley shook her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I wish I could’ve loved him longer.”

“I know. I feel the same way about your Pépère, and about you, ma fille. I love you so much. But remember, the story’s never over.”

As terrible as it was to lose Cyprian, the thought of never having known him was far more devastating. The fleeting time she had to love Cyprian, in no way detracted from the intensity of that love. She’d been gifted with something that had no measure. So, despite all that went wrong, she would get down on her knees and offer up a prayer.

Thank you.

Riley cherished the last scenes of her life as they played on the screen in front of her. And when it was over, she wished it would play again, instead of rolling through the long list of people who played a part in her life.

“Mémère, when you go back to the other side, can you give Cyprian a message for me?” She turned toward her grandmother, only to find she had vanished.

Riley pulled herself out of the seat and looked around the empty theater. Her grandmother was gone, just as mysteriously as she had appeared. It instantly reminded Riley how bizarre this situation was. Riley slowly walked down the aisle, searching the shadowy corners as she approached the exit at the rear. She pressed on the double doors, but they refused to budge. Distant, indistinct, and faintly recognizable murmurs captured her attention. There were people nearby.

“Hello?” Riley called out, as she shoved the doors harder. “I understand. I’m ready to leave. Please,” Riley pounded.



Cyprian de Praefectus

Cyprian impatiently stared through the window at the gray cruiser silhouetted by his home planet. The trip hadn’t taken nearly as long as it could have, but Cyprian was anxious. Every minute seemed like an hour, and hours like days.

Soon, he whispered as he ran a hand through Riley’s hair.

The general’s shoulders relaxed when Aculus released the loading bay door and Kagan exited the airlock, followed by Tytus, June, Ion and Jorg. June barely glanced at Cyprian as she rushed toward the gurney where Riley lay.

“Has there been any change?” June asked with a deep frown and eyes filled with tears.

“No.” Cyprian shook his head. Riley had been frighteningly quiet the whole trip.

“Jorg’s gonna get her fixed up. I’ll make sure that implant didn’t do any permanent damage,” Tytus told June as he wrapped his arms around her waist.