She died only five days later.

After the first visit, Jarne hadn’t been able to muster the strength to see her again. For some reason, he always felt assured that she’d live a while longer. Dragon plague was a slow and cruel disease. Depending on the way it was treated, a person could live with it for upwards of two months following their initial infection.

But not her. She was sick in a flash, and gone just as quickly. He hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye. Not properly. Not in any meaningful way. One day she was there, and the next, she was gone.

“Here,” the smile said. “I want you to have her. You two were always close.”

Jarne accepted her. She was smaller than Sully had been. Smaller than Plus. He didn’t know what else to do, so he kept her in his pocket.

There wouldn’t be any funeral. There hadn’t been one for Plus. They’d tried, but Mole was always too busy. And now, Jarne didn’t even want to ask. He kept her in his pocket, and that was enough for him. Sometimes, he thought about things. Maybe he could have asked Kitty to use his heart to save her so they could ride into the sunset together. Maybe he could have asked Benevil to use his power to save her so they could ride into the sunset together. Maybe he could have asked Mole to discover the cure to save her so they could ride into the sunset together. That would’ve been nice. Why hadn’t he done that? Stupid.

She didn’t answer him. But her silence was right.

Yeah. Maybe they could still ride into the sunset together. It wasn’t too late.

…Maybe. He had to talk to Mole first, though. They had known each other for over three years, after all. Just ditching him would be wrong.

“Rat! Always happy to see a human face,” the smile greeted warmly. “Come, take a seat. I hear they’ve put you in charge of ration-buying?”

“Yeah, it used to be Plus’ work, and then Jazz picked up the slack, but…”

The smile twitched. “Yeah. I understand. These are tough times for all of us. Would you like some clarea?”

Jarne turned to see Kitty inching closer, a tray in his hands. The eye looked down at him. Yellow. Unfeeling. Animal.

Holding up his hand, Jarne was able to politely decline without smacking the tray out of his hands. Nodding, Kitty stepped away.

“No? That’s a shame. I hope it’s fine if I have some, still,” the smile said, accepting a cup from the eye. Using his right hand. His right arm. The smile saw him, and widened. “My arm’s gotten a lot better, as you can see. I really do think my morning exercise did it… Kitty suggested it a while back, and I’ve been sticking to it on the daily! And, lo and behold—the fruits of my effort!” He turned his arm, up and down, the movements only slightly stiff, the fingers only a little too rigid to close into a full fist. The smile split to allow a prideful little laugh. “Wonderful, isn’t it? Of course, it still isn’t flexible enough to let me write with it, but I’m getting there. And it’s all thanks to Kitty. Isn’t that ironic? He might have relieved me of its use, but he also gave it back! So, less than taking it from me, it was more that he just… borrowed it for four years or so. Silly, no?”

Icy cold goosebumps spread across his back, his legs, his arms, making the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up, a coldness gripping his limbs as though his blood had been replaced by ice water. His right leg started jumping, or maybe it was twitching, on repeat, forever and ever. Putting his hand on it, he gripped it hard enough to feel his nails draw blood, but it still wouldn’t stop jumping, the sole of his shoe making a tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka noise against the hard wooden floor. Or maybe that was the sound of his heart. Tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka. As fast as that of a mouse.

“Rat?” the smile said. “Rat, are you okay? You look—”

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He stood up. “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Really? But what about—”

“Sorry,” he bit out, his hand instinctively forcing itself into his pocket to touch her. He breathed out. “I just—I have to go. Bye, Mole.”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that. Goodbye, Rat! I hope to see you soon.”

Jarne left. He walked out of the door, hurried down the stairs, sprung out of the doors, and then ran towards the hospital in a mad dash, panting and almost stumbling several times, only barely catching himself. Everything was passing by him in a whirl. The whole world, spinning. Only by touching her did he feel any kind of calm. It was like she was still there, and when he let his fingers brush against her, her soul was touching him back. Fingers interlocked.

The hospital approached, but he went straight for the stables, where he flattened himself against a wall, trying to restrain his breathing. He had to be sneaky. They never did find any good replacement for Lent, and Rat’s effort had been too pitiful to be sustainable. But whoever was on duty now wouldn’t be quick to let him simply grab a drake and leave. And so, he waited. Ears and eyes on edge, ready for anything. After some time, the current stablemaster left, and Jarne slunk inside.

He knew most of the drakes by heart. In return, they knew him. Holly. Litten. Jam. Charm. Killer. Pepper. Many fine drakes who would be well suited for this task. However, he didn’t need a humpback, he didn’t have that much luggage. Nor did he need a four-legger, or a stomper. All he needed was…

His eyes fell on Lance.

…A proper sprinter. Perfect.

Lance knew him well, but Jarne still let him sniff his hand, and fed him a bit of dried meat. That way, he was more than happy to be untied and led out of the stables. Once Jarne had him properly saddled up, making sure no one was looking, he jumped on and headed out. Everything he needed, he had in his inventory. Either that, or in his pocket. He didn’t need anything else. And still…

Hesitation gnawed at him. Was this really the right choice? What if he was overreacting? What if…?

His hand touched her gem, and he felt calm once more.

No, this was it. He had to leave. There wouldn’t be any retries on this.

Steeling his heart, he set out towards the eastern gate.

“Sir Rodent?” one of the guards greeted at his approach. “What are you—”

“Let me through,” Jarne said. “I’m on orders from the mayor.”

The guard hesitated. “We’ve been ordered to not let—”

“And I’ve been ordered to write a list of anyone who defies the mayor’s orders,” Jarne replied. He glared at the guard. “Would you mind reminding me of your name?”

The guard shrunk back. “O—of course not. A thousand pardons. Allow us a moment to…”

“You better hurry. I’m getting an itch in my finger.”

“S—sir yes sir!”

Within only a minute, the gate was open. Jarne nodded gratefully to the guard, and rode through the gates, out of the city, and into the beautiful world outside. Hills and plains dotted by bold wildflowers rolled on either side of a simple cobblestone road. An eastern wind combed through the tall grass, caressing his hair, and bringing with it the smell of fresh grass and spring flower blooms and leaves and forests and trees. The wind was fresh. It seemed to wash off the stench of almost a full year’s worth of grime and terror and death and horror. The city was behind him. And ahead of him was the sun, setting just over the horizon.

He touched the gem in his pocket. They were going. Soon, it would all be over. He’d forge a new life, somehow, somewhere. It didn’t matter how. Nothing mattered anymore.

Reaching back, he untied his hair, letting it fall loose, the wind quickly snapping it up, making it whip back and forth, dancing freely. Jarne took one look at the road, and then turned Lance towards the open plains. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice full of excitement. “Let’s ride!”

Lance chittered with joy, and with no further instructions needed, rushed into the open plains. The gleeful drake bounced and bounded across the silky grass, leaving a trail of flower petals and uprooted grass in their wake. And Jarne was laughing, now. Laughing because it was all over. Laughing because life could finally move on, like it was supposed to. Laughing because the world was beautiful, and he had never been so excited to experience it. To be alive. What a wonderful thing it was, to live!

Laughing, riding, they crossed the plains, leapt over streams and logs, crossed through a patch of trees, rushed through plains and crop fields, exploring the most mundane miracles the world had to show.

Only when the sun had set fully did Jarne stop laughing. Lance was exhausted, and so was he. As luck would have it, with the world being so kind, they were able to find a little clearing next to a stream, just in time. The water in the stream was crystal clear, and Jarne could spot a few fishes rushing by. Even though he didn’t need to, even though he could just buy food in the shop, he decided to try fishing for them. But first, he resolved himself to have a well-earned, if somewhat cold, bath.

He set up a fire, grilled the fish over them, and sat next to it, drying off his hair while Lance gulped down fish. The sun had set, now. It was dark. Above, the stars gleamed like gemstones. Jarne felt like he could watch them forever and ever. The air was cold, but the fire was hot. The fish could use some seasoning, but the fact that he had caught them himself made them so, so tasty.

As the fire continued to crackle and burn, Jarne laid down, using his jacket as a blanket. The stars twinkled overhead. Lance yawned and curled up around him. Jarne smiled. It was beautiful. Life was beautiful.

A little weight in his pocket made itself known. Chuckling, Jarne pulled her gem from his pocket and held her up against the stars. The light of the stars and the moons refracted inside her, becoming a million billion little rays of multicolored light, a carnival of rainbows, all in the palm of his hand.

Still smiling, he laid her atop his chest, and allowed his eyes to flutter shut.

He was happy to be alive.

And life had never been kinder.