12A/N Okay, the last chapter! A big thank you to everyone who reviewed! I appreciated every single comment. Well, this story has come to an end already, and hopefully it has fulfilled its goal in filling up the fragmented Skyland timeline. Also, I want to mention that I didn't write this story intending to make it particularly happy or action-packed. I wanted to write a realistic story; and that also encompasses sadder, quieter chapters I'm afraid.
Leave a comment before you leave! I always appreciate feedback! Goodbye Skyland ... For now. ;)
The stars were beautiful at night. The Milky Way looked like a streak of dense, glittering foam. And Mila sat beneath it all, lounging in an old lawn chair in front of the house, just enjoying the slight coolness of night. The swishing grass, undulating in a sea of darkness. The trees rustling in the breeze.
She had to admit, living in the country had its benefits. She had been staying here for so long now that she had grown used to waking to the sound of singing birds in early morning, and being lulled to sleep by the soothing sound of crickets.
But she didn't feel like being lulled to sleep now. As exhausted as she was from working all day in the hot sun, Mila still wanted to spend some time alone. To think. The children were asleep but she found comfort in forcing herself awake despite her sore muscles, instead enjoying the silence that was the black, shimmering void.
It had been three months already. The first month on Babylonia had been brutal, but the second and third had been bearable; now that she had actually acquired valuable farming skills, life was getting gradually easier. She still had a lot to learn, but she was getting better at it and that's all that mattered.
Living on Babylonia wasn't an impossible feat after all. It wasn't perfect, that was for sure; they were always a little hungry and thirsty... Mila supposed she had been accustomed to the Rebellion's plentiful accumulation of water in the past years. Being spoiled meant that it was much harder to switch back to a more arduous lifestyle... But thirst wasn't a new problem. They would have to handle it. After all, everyone on Babylonia seemed to be coping. She just feared how much water the Sphere would take once it decided to come here on a regular basis again to collect taxes. Mila hadn't met any sign of the Sphere yet, so she assumed the organization was still trying to pull itself together after its near death battle with the Resistance.
Other than that, life here was very much bearable.
Mila shifted her gaze towards another patch of starry heaven, taking in every single glimmering pinpoint of light. Still her mind wandered. The Resistance could have won, she thought dully. Luck had simply fallen on the Sphere's side at the very last second.
Life would be so different if the Resistance had defeated the Sphere... The pirates would have instituted a democracy; at least, that had been Marcus's first plan anyway. And then, they would have created some sort of water distribution system that also would have relied on people cooperating with the new authority. It would have been difficult to create a new government of course, but somehow, Mila felt that they would have been able to pull it off.
Right now, in another life, she would be sitting outside somewhere with Marcus, contemplating a bright, new era for Skyland. He would probably have leaned in, kissed her.
Mila shook her head angrily, gazing at another area of starry sky. Marcus wasn't here.
A terrible shudder of dread passed over her, but it ended in a second or two, leaving bland emptiness behind. She didn't like thinking about him too much. She would imagine all the things that could have happened to him. She would imagine, in gruesome detail, how he would have died… If he had died anyway. She didn't know. She just didn't know…
And just like that, Mila tasted the saltiness of tears. She hadn't even realized that she was crying and now she couldn't stop the flow distorting her vision, clinging in droplets along her eyelashes and rolling down her face.
She was blubbering like a child. And she hated it.
Distantly, she realized that this was the first time she had cried like this in a long time. First off, she wasn't really a crier. Secondly, she just hadn't allowed herself any time to dwell on Marcus's disappearance ever since coming back to Babylonia. Sure, she had shed a few tears here and there, but those glimpses of sadness had been quick and easily pushed aside. Now that life wasn't a tornado of stress, grief had slowly been building up, pushing behind her eyes.
It had gotten more and more difficult with each passing day to keep it under control. And now, it had finally come out.
Mila hadn't seen or heard from Marcus in three months... Three months! And now she feared that she would never again set eyes on him. The worst part was that she had no idea how he had died (if that was the case) and it tore her apart to think that his body had probably drifted away. Rotted alone.
She'd never be able to give him a proper memorial service. Mila clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries.
Stop it, She told herself through the cloud of despair. Stop it right now. That's enough. Crying won't amount to anything, so stop pitying yourself.
Slowly, very slowly, she managed to stifle the fog of grief. Within minutes she had stopped crying and now she just sat, hunched over. There remained only a tightly coiled knot of ice in her chest; the remnants of grief. Lurking. Waiting.
She wasn't going to give it an opportunity to rise again though; crying tired the mind and the body. Her children needed her to be there. To be happy and sane. That was all that mattered. That was her only goal from now on. In the meantime, she would try to stay positive. Marcus could still be out there. Perhaps he would be here tomorrow, and this vortex of grief and worrying would all have been for nothing.
Her heartbeat slowed and she exhaled gratefully. She felt like a slight warmth had coated the knot of anxiety inside her ribcage. And now, she truly felt exhausted.
She shifted in the chair, ready to get up and head for the door when a soft sound reached her ears. The patter of feet on the floorboards.
Mila froze, glancing over her shoulder.
Sure enough, the door was flung open unceremoniously to reveal a small boy, draped in a long, fluffy blanket. The boy's eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he fixed his mother with a stare. "Mom?" He asked drowsily.
Mila hastily wiped the remaining wetness away from her eyes. "Mahad! Honey, what are you doing up so late?" She said nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice.
He trudged forward, hugging his blanket around him, carelessly letting the fabric brush in the dirt. At any other time, Mila would have told him to leave the blanket inside but she somehow didn't have the will power to scold him for such a silly thing. It didn't matter.
"I couldn't sleep." He said, pulling the fabric around his head. "Why are you outside?"
"Oh… Mommy likes to watch the stars."
Mahad looked up briefly, nodding. He smirked suddenly. "Look." He said, flinging the blanket around like a cape and darting across the yard, letting the dirtied drape billow and flap. "I'm a superhero!"
Mila laughed slightly, her throat still sore from crying. "Shh! Mahad, come here. You're going to wake up your sister."
He circled the yard once more before stopping to her side, breathless. Smiling.
"Come here you." She smirked, picking him up and sitting him against her on the chair. "Why are you so noisy, hmm?" She asked good-naturedly, tickling him. He laughed loudly, twisting to get away.
"Stop it!" He laughed, twirling around and flinging the blanket into Mila's face.
"Hey!" She exclaimed, her face hidden by the lump of fabric. Mahad sniggered. The young mother leaned sideways limply, feigning unconsciousness, eyes screwed shut, mouth open.
Mahad tore the blanket off her face and eyed her skeptically. "You're not dead! Mom, you're such a faker…" He poked her forehead, pinched her nose. Mila smiled slightly. "Ha! I saw you smile, you're not dead…"
She opened her eyes and sat upright. Mahad leaned against her and then they just sat there, crammed into the patio chair, sharing a fluffy drape, watching the sky.
Mila kissed Mahad's head briefly. It seemed odd how despaired she had been minutes earlier. The mere presence of another loved one really lightened the situation.
"Do you think he's out there?" Mahad asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.
Mila combed her fingers through his hair. "Hmm?"
"Dad."
Mila paused for a second before nodding. "Yes. Yes, I'm sure he's out there."
"You know… I think he's probably fighting against the bad guys…" He yawned.
"The bad guys." Mila chuckled.
"Yeah. Those mean people who burned all the- (He yawned again) all the houses." He stopped, staring into the air. "He's kicking their butts."
Mila laughed. "I'm sure he is."
"Dad is the strongest, right mom?" Mahad asked proudly. The way he said it… It wasn't even a question; it was a statement.
Mila said nothing, but she kept combing his hair with her fingers, knowing he was just about to fall asleep.
"Yeah… He's the strongest…"
"Sure." She said softly.
He snored in response. Mila's eyebrows lifted. How on earth could he fall asleep so quickly? She stopped stroking his hair, and just looked at him, sleeping peacefully. She wished she could sleep without a worry too.
It was odd really, to think that she was taught to look down upon non-seijins at the Academy. How terrible... She was so grateful that she didn't think that way anymore. It was cruel and unacceptable.
Marcus wasn't a seijin, neither was Mahad. Lena probably wouldn't have powers either, but it was still too early to tell. And as she sat there with her son, Mila couldn't imagine having chosen a different path in life. She loved her family more than anything in the world. She was just grateful that no matter what had happened, Mahad and Lena were safe. They would live a blissfully ignorant life perhaps, but they were healthy. She should feel lucky.
Mila leaned back drowsily, eyelids fluttering, threatening to close. The wind was picking up, rolling against the overgrown fields, and spreading the cool, flowery smell of wet pollen. The stars twinkled silently, passive, calm, watchful….
Mila would always wish, perhaps, that Marcus was there with them; she would always hope for his return. Hope kept her going. She didn't want to dwell on negativity; the thought of accepting Marcus's death was not possible at the moment. She was instead going to embrace the possibilities of his life. He was out there.
He was out there…
Each morning she would wake up with these words bouncing around in her head and each night she would recite them. Again and again… It kept her sane somehow, to stay blinded by hope. And the days would file by with speedy intensity; merge into weeks, months… A year.
A year without him and yet, she still kept the flicker of hope alive. Her busy, difficult lifestyle helped greatly to keep her thoughts focused on the present. It was when she was alone in the quiet house that grief would randomly decide to strike. It was simple really; keeping busy meant all the difference in the world.
Time would literally fly past, blur into nothingness. Mahad would grow up. Lena wasn't a tiny infant anymore.
One bright morning, they were sitting at the kitchen table when Lena's bowl of oatmeal suddenly ignited with blue light, floated into the air and tipped its contents all over Mahad's head. The boy just stared in shock. Then Mila cried out with a mixture of pride, joy and dread, picking up the one year old and hugging her tightly.
Little Lena… A seijin! And then, later, reality had set in, stifling the burst of happiness. Lena, a seijin. Oh no.
Even though it was difficult to explain it to the boy, Mila made Mahad promise not to tell anyone about his sister's powers. He agreed in the end, though he still didn't understand the need for such secrecy.
Mahad went to school and Mila stayed at home, taking care of Lena and tending to the crops. Often, she would think about the rebels… Wonder if the Resistance had dissolved completely by now, or if it was growing again. She hadn't heard from them in ages… She supposed everyone was in the same situation at the moment; blending into the scenery, watching from the sidelines as the Sphere grew from the ashes.
The Sphere would come by, at random intervals, to collect water. And even though it killed her on the inside, Mila would follow their orders without delay. One little twitch of anger could mean the death of her family. It wasn't worth the risk. That was why she kept her powers a secret, even from her own children. She certainly didn't want to be recognized and shot down in front of her own house.
The seijin would often consider flying back to Puerto Angel, but something stopped her every time. The mutinous rebels. The risks of living on a rebel hideout again… The constant reminder of Marcus's disappearance.
No, another couple of months on Babylonia wouldn't hurt. She would wait a little longer for Marcus. A year. Two years. Five years.
She was getting older now. Her kids were older too; they gradually became less of a hassle and more helpful around the house. Her children, who didn't even know their own past.
But Babylonia would create new memories; the blissful, rainy seasons, with successful crops and a nice profit. The dry, difficult years of constant hunger and thirst.
A cycle of happiness, coming and going...
Mahad falling out of a large tree and Lena running home to get her mother, who would later tend to the boy's minor wounds with a careful eye glinting with disapproval. She had specifically told him not to climb that damn tree! It was rotting apart; no wonder the branch had given way beneath his feet...
Lena coming back from school without her brother in the afternoon, for he was stuck in detention. Again...
Her children having bursts of defiance here and there; Lena using her powers outside the house. In plain sight. Mila would then remind her not to do so. She could see by the hurt glint in her daughter's eyes that it was unfair, but what choice did she have? She had to be strict about it... Mila didn't want to see her daughter dragged away to the Academy.
Mahad, in general, just wouldn't listen to her. Mila found it increasingly difficult to get him to follow instructions with the passing years. It was frustrating sometimes. She wasn't a bad parent, so why was he so rebellious all the time? He'd probably gotten that from his father's side of the family, she had decided angrily...
In the end, life was hard, but it wasn't all that unpleasant; they were still a loving family, with very normal problems, living a very normal life.
Babylonia was their home now. Somehow, the idea of Marcus coming back drifted to the back of Mila's mind with the years, and now she only focused on the present.
Making sure she wasn't behind on her water payments, tending to the fields and raising the children.
One minute at a time.
And soon, the day would come when Mahad would stop asking for his father.
~END~
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