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The wind roused Kyoshi’s hair. Some of the strands had escaped her braid and blew helplessly in her gaze. But her eyes never moved from the single stone jutting up out of the ground.
A storm was slowly crawling over the vast green hills. The sun slowly was covered by the gray mass. Just as her own sun had. A single yellowing leaf fell from the tree above, landing squarely on the mound of dirt that blanketed her only flame.
The stone above it was jagged, cut from the imprecise agony of losing your only tether. Carved in the stone was only two words.
‘Rangi Sei’naka’
There was so much more to be written, to be said. But Kyoshi could only manage the twelve letters of the name before falling apart into a pile of indescribable agony.
That was 200 years ago. Yet the pain still burned so hot it seared the fragile skin of her heart. Rangi was everything. She was even now, even when the lines of her face began to blur in her mind. Even when the sound of her laughter faded from her ears. Even when her voice was a distant memory she couldn’t reach anymore.
The tears came as hot rivers down her cheeks. Washing through the grim of paint and blood. She sank to her knees in front of the grave.
“I would give anything to hold you again.” Her voice quavered, barely above a whisper. The wind picked up, small sprinkles began to patter down gently, followed by the distance grumble of thunder. She didn’t notice.
“But I fear you wouldn’t let me. Knowing who I’ve become.” Her shoulders shook violently. She grabbed at the grass, as if reaching for a hand that wasn’t there. A touch she long forgot the feeling of.
“I’ve been so lost without you to light the way. My flame.” Painful sobs racked her body, pulling on her lungs as she gulped for air. “I don’t know the difference… between right and wrong anymore.”
Fuller droplets began to fall, soaking into her bloodstained tunic. She didn’t move. Still on her knees, a crumpled plea for forgiveness, for understanding. The only sound was another rumble of thunder, closer this time.
The wind howled through the trees. She finally looked up, staring at those two words on the stone, the two words that held every part of her. “I’m tired, Rangi.” Her words were a ragged whisper. “I don’t think I can wake up another day without you by my side.” The only response was a flash of lightning, followed by another low grumble.
Slowly, painfully, she pushed herself up, crawling to prop herself up against the trunk of the tree. Just beside the headstone of her lover. She tilted her head up to the tree. The leaves had long since fallen, the few that remained hung on tightly, even though the harsh wind and rain that pressed down on them relentlessly.
Despite herself, she smiled. The rain washed away the paint and grime and blood that she wasn’t sure was hers anymore, she continued to watch the leaves. One particularly stubborn one stayed put.
She then closed her eyes. Her mind was blank. “I love you, Rangi.” She felt a light weight fall in her lap. A leaf perhaps. Then, nothing at all.