Seeking Closure

Zalia Valyri-Montique was not expecting visitors, let alone the one she received that day. A man with white hair and piercing blue eyes, with a telltale, square jaw. She knew it well; she had that same jawline. Her father had had it as well, before he vanished. And now, so did this look alike of her re he vanished. And now, so did this look alike of her father. He was old, older than her father had been when he vanished. Wrinkled, weathered by his years, he looked like he needed the cane he leant on, but she knew he could probably discard it. That, or he hid a weapon in it to maximize its use.

She certainly hadn’t been expecting him to invite her to his funeral upon his passing, or to see him off before he ran out of time. They hadn’t parted on good terms when last she saw him, for a myriad of reasons. She had mistaken him for her father, for one. For another, he stood idly by while people needed his help, people that called him a friend and that had helped him upon request time and time again. He had stood idly by when she and her brother had asked for his help, and tried to help him, but they had all gotten separated in the process.

Not that it was all bad, mind you. She’d gained a new family in the process, and started the delicate healing that came with therapy for everything she’d seen and done up to this point. For the abandonment she had felt when the man wearing her father’s face did nothing but brush her off. Zalia had always been at her father’s side, and had taken one of his remaining coats after he disappeared, refitting it for herself. She had saved his schematics for various machines to make them work on her own. She had been dedicated to her father and looked up to him, and seeing that face reject her so harshly hurt more than she’d been able to say at the time.

It had taken time, but she had finally gotten past that hurdle. Now, she saw this man as someone else entirely, as she should have from the beginning. She can’t be too hard on herself, either. She had been fleeing an enemy that had caused her father to go missing, and then killed her mother while she and her brother fled for help.

That was a long, long time ago, now. That enemy had certainly accomplished what he had meant to by now. That was okay, though- it was no longer her problem now. She had come to a new home across space and time itself, and had healed here. She had two mother figures, though they hadn’t met. One wore the face of her actual mother, the other had taken her in after meeting her, while she was in a delicate physical state after severe injuries. As such, she had adopted color schemes from both of them. Fortunately, seafoam green worked well with various blues, whites, and blacks.

Having come so far, this man was the last person on her mind, as was her brother, who had abandoned her long ago. Her brother had left to join up with the enemy they were trying to destroy. He was dead to her. She didn’t know how she felt about the man with her father’s face anymore, though. As such, she couldn’t give him an immediate answer- just that she had to think about it. She wouldn’t promise anything either way. He gave a nod, as if he had expected that. Of course he would, he always seemed to know everything, even if he didn’t. It was to make people think he was in control of a situation, even if it was really those around him that were. He hadn’t been able to rally his own court to fight an enemy, but an outsider managed to. He was a rather pitiful King in that regard. He was also almost never sitting on his throne, either, but constantly running from various duties, hounding down the one he saw as worthwhile. Even there, he failed.

She didn’t fault him his failures. How could she? She had failed herself, but she would still hold a sliver of resentment. Perhaps this was what she needed to let go, though- to see him at rest. That would let the memories of her father rest, at long last. He wouldn’t be marked as missing in her heart anymore. This impostor wouldn’t be running around tarnishing any more memories either.

She took those thoughts with her as she headed away from the man, to think on her answer to the invitation. She needed to get away from him and other people that might sway her decision.

--

Zalia stood on the snowy shore, looking out at the lake nestled in the mountains. It was late spring, with summer approaching, and this hidden vista was only beginning to thaw. Black hair that moved without the wind swayed eerily, streaks moving throughout her hair, as the tail of a comet or a meteor would. Her hair shimmered in the midday sun, the only way the sun would reach her at this spot, setting off the stars in her hair and eyes brilliantly. White-yellow pupils stared out at the water’s surface, as the edges of the water began to melt.

Snow crunched beside the tall woman, another joining her, with pink hair, and lilac eyes, which shimmered with golden specks.

“You’re thinking about going.”

It wasn’t a question; it was an observation.

“I am.”

“Do you want a soundboard?”

“No, I think I’ve made my decision already.”

Silence hung heavy in the air as Zalia’s companion swept her gaze over the lake.

“You’re going to attend?”

“Yes.”

Without waiting for a response, Zalia continued.

“It’s my one shot at closure, Lyra. I never got to see my father properly buried, or anything like that. If I can see the man wearing his face move on peacefully... Then I can pretend my dad got to. I can pretend that he went peacefully, and not violently torn to shreds by his enemy.”

Lyra gave a slow nod.

“I see. I figured you’d like some company out here. It’s cold, for the end of spring.”

“It’s a special place for that reason. I’m surprised there aren’t more tourists up here. But I’m not one to complain about it being quiet.”

Silence resumed, more companionable this time.

“What do you make of him asking you to attend?”

Lilac eyes studied the dark-haired woman carefully, scrutinizing any sign of emotion from her friend.

A slight grimace visible to only those that knew Zalia was in place, the corners of her mouth stretched apart slightly.

“I feel it’s a lot too late, though I can’t fault him for everything. Not all of it was his responsibility to bear, and it never should’ve been expected to be.”

Lyra gave a slight nod, gaze returning to the lake. Like the lake, her friend had learned to thaw, even if it was later than expected. She was forgiving a man his sins, as he was about to move on, rather than holding them against him past his death. She was right that not all of them were his fault, or responsibility, but there were others that were. Lyra, for one, was glad that Zalia was letting go for her own sake, and that she would get some form of closure. It was almost enough to pretend some of the past didn’t happen, that it didn’t exist. Almost.

If it weren’t for her friend’s physical peculiarities, reflections of the scars she had seen in the past few years. Then, perhaps, they could completely pretend the past hadn’t happened. That Zalia’s body hadn’t been destabilized, and restabilized in new ways as a corruptive magic was torn from her. That Zalia hadn’t crossed the rifts of time and space to seek help for a mounting threat that had since been forgotten. Zalia had made a new home with people, and found a love she’d been missing in parental figures. Even though it meant the probable loss of her home, she’d found a new one, and Lyra was proud of her for that. She’d come all this way, lost so much, and was beginning to heal. She’d never voice this to Zalia, of course- she'd never accept the mushiness to the sentiment without bluster, and why ruin a quiet moment with that?

“One last question. Are you sure you’re doing this for you, and not some sense of obligation?”

Zalia’s features hardened.

“While I am doing this for myself,” she answered slowly, picking her words carefully, “there is also a sense of obligation. Not to the man himself, but to who he represents. I need to be there to lay old memories to rest.”

“Do you want any of us to go with you?”

“I’ll let you know. Until then, no, I’ll be fine.”

Zalia smiled, placing a hand on Lyra’s shoulder.

“Thanks.”

A stoic nod met that answer, and they turned their backs on the lake, the edges of it melting more and more as the sun bore down on the glassy surface, melting the snow around them as well. Their feet would be damp, for certain, but that didn’t bother Zalia, as a strange sense of peace filled her.