Rising Tide

((ooh, it might be interesting that my PMC employee's name is the same as one of Abe's brothers... could influence the plot somehow.))

Adam went through the routine inspection of the premises, making sure there were no weak fences or other neglected means of keeping the Witchers in line, checking things off on his clipboard.

"That seems to be in order," he said, sounding slightly bored. "Thank you for your time." Without waiting to hear if anyone replied, he turned around and walked back towards the PMC headquarters.

Frankie

I figured that one of my fellow Witchers had the power of their mind. Either that or someone just used magic; which really wasn't a good idea. My mind flipped back to Emerial's lessons.

"Now, if you remember nothing else, remember this. Only use magic in your greatest times of need. And even then sparingly. Never, ever become power hungry and use it freely. It will kill you."

I shook my head and stopped wallowing, things needed to be dealt with.

I marched over to the human, Emelie, and took her arm.

"Hello there, Emelie. I would say nice to meet you, but actually you might cause some trouble for us. I'm Frankie, and ... well I don't actually know the others' names yet. But I guess we'll have to learn them sometime."

I sent out tendrils of my power into Emelie's mind, not making her think anything and not erasing her memories. I just used a tiny little bit of power to ensure she couldn't walk more than 10 yards from me. I turned to the others.

"Right. Done. So, do you guys want to come to my hideout in the woods? Or d'you have one of your own?"

I wanted to move my arm, her grip was hurting me, but that could be bad. These people could hurt me if I so much as blinked too much. "Well," I start, coughing a bit. "I have a house not far from here. It's just me and- it's just me." Oh, Fen, I thought sadly. I'm sorry for doing this, but I couldn't leave our house-it's all that I have left of you.
With a shock, I realised the others where looking at me expectantly. "I said," The Girl, Frankie says, still gripping my arm. "We'll check it out. Where is it?" "About three miles from the slave house." "No good," she says, gripping my arm tighter at the mention of the slave house. "We'll just go to my place." I nod, and walk with the other's tears streaming down my face.


I'm sorry, Fen. Good-bye...

Sixty years have passed, and with time lives are left behind as things of the past. And like a rising and falling tide death is a cycle that cannot be controlled. The rising tide of death has claimed the souls of this story as it's own. But they needn't not to have died before their time. They lived full lives, each individual contributed to the world in their own unique way. From the moment they had bloomed as infants into the world greatness was their dormant flower within their premature buds.

And like a Gardner who loves the flowers in their garden as their children knows, they wither away. But life will bloom again.

THE END