Work Text:
I. The Burial of the Hero
That day when we all came home, I made
my first regret: Fifty years, I said, let’s meet again
at that time. I had seen death, but did not
understand it. I knew it only as a phrase. Memento mori:
remember Death, remember
the hooded figure on the pale horse, remember
the shadow who walks beside us. All this
meant nothing to me until it got to you. Time, you said,
is a handful of dust.
Falls easier through my fingers
than the stars from that sky. For fifty years I forgot
what it means to be human.
You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl.
But when we returned from the hyacinth garden ―
How can I stand here? How can I stand to see the processional reanimation
of what was once you, and is now just
your body? I cannot remember at what point in our journey
you told me your favourite flower, and
I never gave it to you anyway. I am not
who I was, not real or bright or alive without you. I am
all of myself that is left,
Only the Frieren at your funeral.
II. A Game of Life
It’s not that I cared for the others less,
but that you had gone first
and now I cannot forget Death on his pale horse long enough
to be surprised again. I walk under the endlessly
heavy sky. On the other end, in the distance, is that where
you are? It must be. I make my way
knowing that it must be. The days
are becoming foggy and grey, the winter moon
without the madness I remember in it
The river bears no empty bottles, sandwich papers,
Silk handkerchiefs, cardboard boxes, cigarette ends
Or other testimony of summer nights.
but nothing else has changed. They are just as you were,
the three of you, and even the demons return as we begin again
to wage the same war. As we walk again
to the same end. When will I see you? Is this the feeling they call
Impatience? The icy rain
cannot drip fast enough from my lashes when I blink,
but the sun rises too quickly still. Life
is measured in days and if the days were longer,
I would not need to remember
the hooded figure who trots beside my party
and whispers memento mori into the last gasps of
wind. Time is a handful of dust and I must
close the gap between my fingers.
Can I close the gap between us?
III. The Mage's Sermon
I want to tell you about the journey
but I don’t know where to begin. We began ours
so long ago, and I have only told you that it feels
the same. Maybe there is a difference, if only because
I am different. Change, like Death, was theory to me once
until I realized that I had stepped through
its gates. What a way to be. You have lived and died
and I have only now grown up, although
Fern tells me I am still a child, and maybe she is right.
I hope she is right.
I would like to keep growing, if I can.
IV. Death by Monster
On the days I miss you most despite
everyone around me now, I think, Himmel,
the Hero is not meant to die
but you did.
V. What the Legends Said
Maybe I have been a fool. Maybe I have been
looking for you in the wrong places. In
the farthest regions of the sky, although
You could never be so distant. You were always
near me, when few ever have been,
but as I said, maybe I have been a fool
because I did not know that it was possible
not to be lonely. I fell in love
on that moon-mad journey of ours, the campfires
and the laughter and even the vicious struggles against demons.
Cities crumbled around us
as we sought to slaughter and to salvage
Falling towers
Jerusalem Athens Alexandria
Vienna London
Unreal
and you made me feel real
and bright and alive. I have been searching for that feeling
all along when I was searching for you, and now
I have it once again
even though I have not found you yet.
Himmel, I have been alive for a very long time, but
you were always the wiser of us. Now
I think I know what you’ll tell me when I
lay my regrets at your feet
and sit down again beside you:
don’t stay
back for me now. When the road ends
I’ll be waiting.
or:
you've come all this way
for nothing. I was never gone.
or:
Frieren, you might live for a thousand years but
you’ll never be alone.
I think I know what I’ll tell you
in between stories of
all the little happinesses since I saw you last:
Thank you, &
I love you, &
I am living now.