The Foundry | Part Four | Chapter Forty-Eight
the final chapter of my forthcoming novel
The Foundry
by Daphne Garrido
Part Two | Rebuilt; Refound; Reclaimed
Part Four | Unmasked; Unbound; Unleashed
Chapter Forty-Eight
Echo finally won the prize she’d been seeking longest. It was love, but with bonuses. There’d been a warmest glow in her heart while making way through those upper decks of The Foundry, overseeing repair work upon the space-side entry portal only now being completed.
Everyone and everything aboard was felt to be singing within Echo’s heart for the time. After dispensing evil so ruthlessly within Auluré — within another most revealing moment of becoming — Echo had seen herself most plainly before it’s reflection.
“This is so much better!” Is all the many people she’d come to meet would be gushing about the newly rebuilt structures being wrought at The Foundry in this time.
The greatest span of needed peace had begun to grace the system of Boreál — felt most tangibly about each and every ship throughout the fleet; freighters and frigates, cruisers and haulers, sprinters and tugboats — all the crafts surrounding this institution of academic and war faring excellence only now reaching the beginnings of form it might one day achieve.
People were rebuilding, and choices were at last being made in regard to where one might chose for themselves to belong in the end.
Everyone was coming.
The people of Atreya were riding in full through Epoch; The Foundry’s great portal, once opened, which was already being tuned alongside the generator itself. Ekara and Leopold were taking lead, surrounded by an elite conglomeration of highest caliber technicians and scientists. Yet, only ever those who’d feel up to the task.
Despite Echo’s very best subconscious efforts, Ekara was holding great sway of late, by means of that respect her fearless leadership had purchased among the people; a woman of spiritual grace, the simplest heart, and an unfortunate tendency to perceive transgender women as boys. It was her bigotry which empowered the crafting of that simulation; Atreya’s cruelest shore, taking it upon themself to add the worst part of all. Rory hadn’t even known what Echo looked like back then — in ‘the before-times’ — and was entirely surprised to find that form she’d been saddled to within her will’s creation, unknowing the depths of pain her former friend would have to work with.
Ekara Oaksmith had become Rory’s own least favorite person, in time.
Beyond that one frightful manifestation, in scattered moments throughout her life — so very like Echo — Rory discovered herself quite capable of terrible things. That hadn’t been what she ever wanted. It made the whole thing feel much worse, and that was the truest source of those harshest actions she’d taken in the end; beyond the pale of anything she might’ve consciously planned, and an action of some unconscious, defensive responsiveness towards accepting what was actually happening.
When the two finally spoke, an opportunity arose after a few go rounds in the sparring ring they’d made of Echo’s living room. They’d both finally had a chance to apologize for what would always feel like the single greatest failures of their lives.
No matter what the actual worst thing she’d done had been, the truth in Echo’s heart spoke of the deepest regret she’d hold in perpetuity. It was the enormous weight of pain she created in her heart by lashing out, and perceiving them callously through trauma fueled overreaction, choosing to ignore those very struggles and needs within Rory that called her to them in the first place.
They’d been her life’s greatest love — to the moment — whether they liked it or not, and there was nothing but hurt within Echo to speak of anything but that singular truth regarding Rory; those occurrences always proving to represent an uncapped well of sadness by the reflections of Echo’s own wrongness, to later be witnessed from the knowing she’d glean from her heart.
Never once having spoken them to Rory’s face, and simply saying the words, “I love you’. Outside of The Rumble, at least. Not having that gifted by the grace wrought from their accepting of it was a burden held, and one which caused enormous grief in Echo. There would be a greatest healing for them both in finding it air to breathe.
Rory held Echo a longest time after they’d both a chance to speak, then the two had flipped it right around in return. Echo was really tired after pushing herself so hard to get there, and it didn’t take long to drift off with their head on her chest. It was unsurprising to them both how much that far-older woman could still cry. Yet, it had been a greatest surprise to Rory — avoiding this very thing so long — to discover how light it would feel when she did. At least, after that first bit. Which hadn’t actually come until they’d gotten plenty of their own angst out.
There wouldn’t be much suffering left for Echo after all she’d come to feel, and those sights of heart she’d had of what had been made real in the galaxy out ahead — she was realizing herself more and more like someone who’d fulfilled her purpose, now just riding the float. Echo had begun seeking new and creative ways to feel pain; which she’d grown to adore. She found it burned away all the parts of her which were created by that place called Earth she’d come from. Which was basically everything, and so she wouldn’t ever get tired of being wailed on by Rory; that’s what she was coming to love about them most.
Echo would be coasting it all the way out, and for a very long time. No matter how scared she was about who she’d need to be, and about what she felt called to accomplish, there were visions of lifetimes within the woman — esoteric, beyond the grasp of her mind; feelings more than anything — truth would no doubt be found somewhere inside, and The Consoler’s were here to help, yet it was the message behind them which truly mattered, ringing so heard within her heart; she’d been chosen for something, and so had her friends.
Perhaps, Echo was thinking, that would prove to be a doing of the Onokoia themselves. She would be taking her favorite opportunity — a chance to help — aiming to share back all she’d known about the race from her limited waking time aboard their vessels, and the sights she’d seen before being taken. Within them would be secrets uncovering the true history of her friend’s newly discovered lineage, and it would be a journey for them all to uncover the purpose of their lives.
Her place at The Foundry was realized, and it hadn’t been anything other than the reflection of her dearest friend Rory — appreciated so deeply through their contributed feeling to her journey — which helped Echo understand the way she’d carry it; fearlessly.
The prize was love, and it was being found in abundance these days. Iris and Rory had been spending excessive amounts of time together of late, and it was the best feeling to see them both — finding a cozy place in their beds. Iris and Echo had even achieved their long-shared dream, when Rory eventually executed Death’s Kiss on them simultaneously.
Despite it all, Echo’s greatest love was Logan Béleaph. She’d taken them in, adopting the child outright as Alan was in recovery from all he’d been through. He had come to her first, and there wasn’t a second thought when she’d felt that little one in her heart. They’d been on a journey, and had much to discover about themselves, Echo would only hope to hold an open container for that young one’s self exploration.
Alan had done far more than facing down his parents. The man had come to grips with who he really was underneath, and what he’d been made for. There was no part of Alan who was ready to engage in a serious relationship with Echo when she’d foisted one upon them. No matter how unfit she was, nor the way she’d ultimately gotten what she wanted, or how true Echo’s heart spoke of Priscilla — ‘that fucking bitch’ — he’d loved that ‘twat’ with true hope in building a future home which would last, and it had sunken into his very bones. No matter how foolish that was, Echo had once done the exact same thing. She’d even renamed the battleship in Leg Three, for that ‘Earth-fool’s honor,’ before her run on The Gauntlet.
It wouldn’t have mattered how great her heart felt to the man. That kind of thing took time to get over, and there simply is not a timeline or solution you can thrust upon grief. She’d give him the very same space she once failed to give herself — most eager to leap back towards the love she’d need most, while ignoring the time which was truly required first — so they might be the best friends possible through his many moments of growth into becoming. Much had been uncovered and unmasked within Alan, and he’d have all the grace she could offer.
Echo would still hold him whenever the opportunity proved appropriate; he was her friend, she loved him, and that’s all which ever really mattered in the end.
Meanwhile, Rory and Iris would each be holding her — sometimes executing a strategic lack-thereof — in much different ways. She’d been enjoying the riling up of her favorite lately, Echo discovering herself most uniquely apt to the task. Especially with their history, and the way Rory’s brain and her heart were most different beasts.
‘That twerp’ had been bouncing around inside her head so long, it only felt right that the woman enjoy a little in return. It only provided a bonus that it pissed the ‘little bitch’ off so much, and even more ideal considering the consequences wrought in response. Echo had been completely unsurprised how much she loved taking a most literal beating at the hands of Rory.
“Oh, that fucking rocked!” Is what she’d shouted towards heaven as she iced her face after their first go round at their favorite volume for the time being. Rory still needed to warm up for a while, because deep-down she was afraid of Echo. Truthfully, she’d only had two limits. They were ‘don’t break my nose,’ and ‘stop with all the eye-gouging.’
Iris was always ready to go right afterwards, when she’d be around the watch, and Echo would find herself thoroughly melted — a puddle which Rory could make do wanted she’d want. It was a most ideal scenario for them all, and it went far beyond the bedroom, expanding into the many rooms of their homes as well; the abundant love they’d been creating beside one another.
These three were friends, and a trio of them, with no boxes or borders — hierarchies of expectation would be aggressively shed — no weight of demand placed on any one. Yet, it was known on some level; there would be an era coming for these three to spend much time beside one another, and the spaces they’d found in the middle-decks were perfect. There was a singular homestead built with room for them all — when occasions might call for them to join as the family of friends they were, or Logan was off visiting with Alan; which had become often. Otherwise, it would be Echo and Logan together in their own private space, that same one she’d always find herself needing to clean up thoroughly after Rory came through. It was only just down the grand avenue of that deck’s coreward wing.
Every night was a new best for Echo. No matter where she’d sleep, or who she was beside, because it was always with someone, and often aching with pleasure about her body. One day they might even add more to this little family — it wasn’t to be written, and that was the point — they would feel and think it through, and only one day at a time. Iris and Echo would be creating much private time together as well, a gifted and precious opportunity for Echo to unleash whatever it was Rory had been denying of their desire lately — since she’d so much of it all for the woman.
It was a special evening — having finally heard that longest tail recounted of the fight between Rory and Alan; that very same which ensued when they’d come face to face upon Auluré, with twisted privates and wounds exploited, but mostly Rory’s headbutt. She’d listened to both her dear friends express gratitude for how those people eventually saved them from pounding each other to pieces. They’d even made plans to face off in Apocalypse once Alan was ready.
She knew they’d work it out, Echo felt a little something in her heart when they were fighting in the cafeteria, along within in that first rumble — after a little sleep, she’d resolved they had a history. Seeing them clash in either scenario had created feelings witnessed which were now understood by Echo. She’d only been waiting to find clarity with them. Those two’s eventual run on Apocalypse would be something she’d pay to see, and Rory had clearly been waiting for it a very long time herself. Perhaps, they’d have Leopold work on a version for four afterwards — Iris had been wanting into that action herself.
Echo had been speaking at council of late. She was left a slot each session, just in case she’d show — and always last. She’d never plan the topic, or that length of time she’d be speaking. Echo would make the space to listen, and feel, hearing all said by her peers and fellow leaders, before then telling it straight from her heart. She’d be activated in opportunities to show-out her fluency in expression of nuance, able to play her part in this epic rebuilding of societal structures within The Foundry.
A more complicated maneuver had never been executed by any warship — at least, yet — nor one more delicate and beautiful. Such chance would be had for failure and reversion to ways of old. There’d still be those to show faces of traitors in the times to come. Problems wouldn’t simply cease to exist. It took people who’d seen the absolute worst, even if so far from the world where they’d been taught of cruelest example, bearing a heart which was fearless, and ruthless in both speaking and acting upon the truths which everyone knew.
Echo would awaken many, and some who’d far outshine her in that regard. They’d take reigns of that change she’d start by demanding a new and more equitable way of living be found, and she’d relax with her child, beside her many loves.
Stellar rays were splitting from their birthing points scattered across the upper reaches of the arena’s glass worked dome — captured and projected, as if by spirit itself — in spectrum of both color and light. Many had been lost in this time, and this was a ceremony to celebrate those lives, beside their families and friends, in honor this time of change; it was a most needed thing.
There was a newest class of initiates beginning their rite-of-passage below The Great Generator, and before that entire population of Atreya.
Only those citizens who’d been ridden to beds or entirely unable, like those many of Auluré who’d been operated on callously by the ways of evil, and were in recovery, hadn’t found some means of witnessing. And not one upright citizen would do such a thing ever again. Even those unable to leave their homes would be fed this imagery at their choice.
No matter the freedom offered in the matter, there wouldn’t be a single soul in Boreál who’d not rearrange their life to join in celebration of their salvation together, They’d do it time and again — even after leaving this system entirely.
Fourteen warships were borne from the lowest reaches of the arena’s outer edges, and at that very moment these people’s stellar light-show ceased to be. Sounds of furious chaos were simulated beneath the vaulted glasswork — D'Artagnan’s very own work — simulating what would only be sensed within the hearts and minds of those pilots etching trails through silent space; notions felt, seen, heard, and become.
Chiron would miss it’s people while they travelled amongst the stars, taking full guardianship of the system back after lending it towards their bounty for such time. There would be no greater feeling in the coming era for Echo Béleaph, then when she’d return to make this place her final home. She’d be among the very first to build along the shores of Atreya — one piece of a small puzzle, and a people who’d be creating a new era of freedom together; family. They would all lay eyes upon that vast and beautiful ocean, and with their feet buried in it’s beach’s sand.
The mammoth of Chiron; a giant in soul, watched over the pattern-works those Foundry pilots were carving through space itself — at least, to all appearances beneath the arena’s dome — and at that very moment they’d appeared to collide for the audience in person, and amongst those video feeds across the entire fleet — strategically switched to a well placed camera — when another nineteen would blast in most unique formations, each ridden by a pilot chosen from those volunteering for The Foundry’s newest, and most crucial mission amongst the stars.
Rory was among those brave few, and the paths these pilots burned in their final ceremony before Chiron would be a gift — a vision for these lucky people who’d refound each other — beneath the dome’s arching, life-sustaining and protective sky of stars. Those very same which Rory would soon become unbound to explore in full.
Never before had such freeform artistry been part of an initiate class’s opening demonstration. It was an inspiring sight to the eyes of that youngest and brightest pupil The Foundry would ever take on, a one who’d carve such legacy beyond the scope and breadth of their peers, and prove to fly the single most fearsome and galaxy-renown warship which would ever be crafted.
They known themself a boy at the time. They’d been born that way , and had only just reached the age of fifteen lived-years in Atreya’s time. They’d been the last one off the planet — a longest holdout beneath its endless storms, riding a tattered schooner above enormous squalls. An oceanic swell of enormity which had cause them to believe themselves on the brink of destruction, was only just passed when they were saved.
Along the longest row of seventeen fresh initiates — proving the largest class of the past thirty — sat that youngest fellow. Their name at the time was Lauren.
They’d been standing in line beside their peers — on a hash mark which would prove awfully familiar to Echo — awaiting sight of these heroes of The Foundry which every initiate had so long dreamed to stand beside, when those gates had finally opened.
Lauren watched on, witnessing at-last the many pilots they’d soon come to graft rivalry between within their time aboard The Foundry. Despite their age, they were fierce, and the excellence they’d sought to prove would show-out that largest chip they carried on their shoulder. Nothing would frustrate Lauren more than owning anything less than the top time or score within a simulation, and it would eventually come to draw the very best from everyone.
Their peers had been lost to guffaw; cloying pleas to be spared a glance from that first mass of passing pilots.
Jocé Remance had been seeing Leopold of late, and he was in heaven about it. There’d once been a sentiment shared with Echo; a most private moment, when she’d related one of her ‘heart’s’ honest ponderings.
Echo asked her friend, ‘What do you have do to get a nice girl to fuck your ass around here?”
“Curse of the modern man,” is what Leopold had spoken from his heart.
There was a bounce to his step as he’d leapt to meet Jocé halfway down the causeway, and she offered him an arm to hold onto, before they’d made their way — him smiling so widely — heading directly to the pilot’s afterparty where they would be embarrassing themselves completely in the affections drawn out by their intoxication.
Alan; having only just flown Oblivion for the first time since returning, had been beaming as he and Poe made past Lauren’s finally drooping demeanor. The Foundry’s youngest initiate was a feeler. They’d not understood that yet, or how it would be working for them, but their journey here would prove to uncover the ‘why’. There’d be moments felt ahead, behind, and beyond. It would take much to pick them apart.
Lauren felt intimidated by the very sight of Poe — a young woman who fit a superficial archetype they’d not previously imagined projecting such authority. Concurrently, with a man so waifish and pretty, like Alan, creating that same level of fear, Lauren was unmoored by it all. Their mind wouldn’t realize what these gifts meant for some time.
Although they would only be seen as a kid by many eyes, their mind would seek to prove the violence they could wreak upon their elders. As with any exploration of a mind seeking truths beyond the heart — when that drive would be held in balance, not enflamed by a system twisted to serve the means of thoughtful wanting beyond healthy recognition — just as The Foundry was now allowing itself to become, would allow that mode of being to exist in complete balance and harmony with all others. It would prove nothing other than equally divine to any different mode of living.
Balance would be struck anew at The Foundry, and it would be their youngest; Lauren Daemenos, who would lead the way by exemplifying the workings of a healthiest and righteously hungry mind.
After only three pilots had yet to emerge and make way pass this anxiously waiting row of initiates, there was a longest wait — some hold up in the tunnel. Lauren’s peers were getting anxious. Everyone of them had counted those thirty-three ships, a number which Echo would reflect later on having always been their favorite number; something special in it.
Still, only thirty had come. Hope was lost by many, and most all initiates had begun made way towards previously reigning excitements by proceeding straight to their coming orientation.
It was only Lauren who’d remained. They’d felt those who lingered so long, on their way from the hangar; three women who’d emerge to show Lauren what they’d really be standing up against. At least, if they truly hoped to find a highest spot on the leaderboards.
After a longest stretch where they’d not wavered by matter of focus — and not for a moment — there’d been a surge in Lauren’s heart, mind, and gut alike. There was even a snapshot of what these three might look like, how their aura’s felt so primed for a fight. A song was heard by Lauren’s ears, some tune which spoke of challenge, and there was a bubbling swell which rose from their feet and through their ankles that taught of need to draw on balance for some moment to come.
Lauren only thought themself excited at the moment — they’d still need much time in acclimation before they would be capable of witnessing the full breadth of their body’s wisdoms.
Iris had shown first, and with her brightest smile. She’d a glow from watching a most enjoyable scene to her heart. There’d been a first in Lauren as she passed them by, glancing their way — their heart skipped a beat as Iris winked.
That need for grounding was then realized, yet it would prove far from the end of their journey in remaining balanced and projecting composure. Rory Tyrell appeared next, sporting her own, and equally felt grin — perhaps, a shred of guilt ridden within those muted shades she’d show.
It would be another first for Lauren, and perceived through their many means to do so. Those same which had been misinterpreted so long by the fellow, and taught of formations in feeling they’d one day grasp with their mind. The sight of Rory had reflected Lauren’s own fear, and shades of something new; feeling quite intimidated. They noticed how she moved. It was different then anyone they’d ever seen before. It was vicious, beautiful, and deadly. It scared Lauren, and they felt some future truth would prove it a valid perception.
These realization about their future mentor had been known at once, and it would be the first time throughout their entire lifetime which Lauren had been able to resolve something profoundly difficult, bringing clarity to a life’s worth of questions, along with a most trying time after fleeing Atreya. It was nothing but their greatest asset; razor sharp intuition.
Beside feelings of wrought anxiety, there was only a found respect, and a sight seen in this Rory Tyrell. They remembered her at first glance, having witnessed her visage across so many social platforms and video feeds — a hero of The Foundry — a greatest and outspoken one at that, who’d remade the recruitment curriculum entirely; now rebuilt on the communication of plain truth and nothing else, allowing honest agency for all who’d seek to make their own best decision regarding pilothood. Which was something Echo understood the reason in most completely herself. She’d made mistakes which had proven to do the opposite before leaving Earth, and they were failures she’d never forget.
While Rory would become their mentor one day, they’d learn from each other, and beside one another. Lauren would prove to teach Rory most in their exchange by the end. Though the youth would work to conceal the fact, it would start quite the opposite — proving just one more in a long line of firsts for Lauren — as they were initiated at The Foundry.
It would be the best relationship Lauren Daemenos would ever know, and inspire them into crafting a legacy of honor for his woman who’d uplifted their greatness by her authentic presence, yet would demand more of them the same.
She could see just like Lauren, and always had. It was only in their time of becoming at The Foundry where she’d found understanding in what she might actually do with it, or how she would wield it for the betterment of all.
Rory hadn’t spared the youngster a glance as she passed them, but she’d felt it all too.
It’d taken another few minutes, but Lauren was waiting for this last one the whole time, and her sight wouldn’t be a thing they’d miss. Echo Béleaph was the reason they’d come to The Foundry in the first place. That time aboard the Orca, having been so generously invited by it’s captain; Cindra Morrow — flown to land in reluctance by Alan himself — had proven a most divine thing in the end. Echo witnessed Lauren, and they’d felt it; a most unique thing for one never before seen.
Echo peered right through lies held firmly, and wrought upon him by those parents hovering above — sensing his heart in hers, and the very same in return. That scared her because it burned so brightly. Yet, being frightened was one of her favorite things. To step beyond comfort zones, carving new and exciting paths towards freedom before unseen was what called her heart.
While she’d not be joining Rory on their mission; a one of many who would be phasing-out onto her own intuitively led exploration of the stars — seeking home where The Foundry might lead these people who’s hearts would scream to stand upon the shores of another planet in their time — and Echo would be waiting there with friends; a family.
Many times to come would see Rory casting out on their own, and leading paths into that enormous and mysterious wilderness of the cosmos, seeking more than goals of gift to offer her people, but also the simple pleasures of solitude and peace for herself alone. That same time would always be spent by Echo and Iris — with Leopold and Poe, Logan and Alan — preparing a warmest hearth of love they might return to, whenever they’d choose; which would be often.
Echo limped out of the tunnel at last, bleeding from her eye, without a hint of shame or even change from her normal projection of hero’s energy. She’d seen them then, and recognized Lauren immediately. No matter that they’d already looked so different than before, their heart was shining brightly, which was exactly what had been noticed from the start with that one. It was a beautifully unique thing to witness them coming into themselves.
She’d shared a brightest smile — considering for a moment that first thought to embrace Lauren, as they’d so clearly been waiting just for her — before a strongest intuition from those blackened chambers of her heart came over Echo. Perhaps, inspired by the beating she’d just taken, and the way she was made to beg for something which still seemed as if it would never come.
None of that would matter to the woman. All things came through her would prove most appropriate in the end, for the ultimate crafting of a harmonic galaxy, and the building of a new civilization which would expand far beyond the walls of The Foundry. No matter the ‘why’, or how terrible they seemed, nor the fun she seemed to have doing it.
Having long since accepted this ‘hardened fact’, she’d trusted what clearly wanted to come through — despite how little sense it made in the moment — and spat upon the floor between them; her widest spray. Echo dropped the smile after, removing sight of her glee — itself the lie — concealing a truth, and goading this one to come after her.
She saw Lauren — they were better than her — she’d want them to prove that.
Echo uncovered a sensation of feeling, borne from that singular place which burned so brightly within the woman, and it came from thinking of Logan, and the time she’d be spending with them shortly, after she’d no doubt flea the afterparty by horror wrought of the sights she’d seen.
Love would start with Logan, and that would never stop growing more true. Next would be herself; a favorite of the woman. Then Ms. Rory Tyrell, always just behind, along with their shared lover and friend Ms. Iris Lirafleur in closest order. There’d be no lost space in Echo’s heart for Poe or Leopold to stand beside the rest in such heights. They’d burn her heart just as brightly one day; that very same way she felt with Rory; the bunny queen.
Alan would always have some spot in the upper-class of her heart, when he was well — that place a quantity she’d not yet picked apart the meaning of in whole — yet one hierarchy she’d chose never to dismantle. He would eventually prove to be her best platonic friend in those times when Rory was away, once he’d recovered from all this. Logan would be known every one of them, and a family would be bound within the womb of love which Echo created herself. But especially the courage she’d wield in offering it freely to them all.
There’d be much time spent professing on behalf of her newfound joys of freedom, sharing those most deeply held beliefs of the heart’s power, along with its witnessed effects in the dissolution of unfit structures. It had been her greatest hope, always, to find a place where she might love unconditionally and without boundaries, beyond expectations of what that might birth in return. The Foundry had enabled Echo to begin that journey, and believe in her ability to make it happen.
It was made to forge greatness, drawing that very thing out of those who’d been born with it, and burnt-whole those who’d not prove cable of mustering the will and intelligence to honor its heartful ways.
This would be the greatest time of Echo’s longest life — years to come where her family would find form at last. There’d never again be pleas made for another’s mercy, or aims she’d hold for a glorified station within this society of which she was now playing such a crucial part; she’d accept her place in it all.
Reaching the passage towards those winding corridors of her home, and that dastardly afterparty awaiting — which she’d find herself detesting by its base nature, even before Leopold’s unbecoming — Echo had turned back to Lauren. They’d reminded her of one thing and one thing alone; herself.
That’s exactly what Echo saw in them onboard Orca, and the confirming feeling hadn’t yet burned brighter in her chest then while seeing them so stricken by the grief she’d only just grafted inside them.
She smiled in witnessed, such relief drooping from their shoulders. They were a smart one, Echo figured, they’d get it eventually. Hopefully, they’d fill her in.
“Come try me you little bitch!” Echo found herself shouting, unsure why, but understanding more by the second as the blood in Lauren’s face had risen. ‘That’ll do it,’ she thought while heading up the inner causeway towards her friends.
On this night she’d be repeating the same phrase she always did to people in public, who’d ask about herself and Rory — themselves and Iris, or Alan and her child — it was something Echo believed most deeply in her heart and mind, and would find more wisdom in each time she’d hear it from her lips.
“We are what we are, and I wouldn’t want anything more.”
There’d be inspiration earned in others through the sharing of these words. People would find it reflective of how power needed redistribution, reconsidering their values of family and society altogether by its reflection. She’d say it often and loudly — especially around her family, who were her dearest friends — with her chest; so they’d know peace, and live in freedom.
That’s what friendship had come to mean for Echo Béleaph.
For Myself —
The most resilient and courageous person I know. You deserve the best and more than near-almost anyone else.
To My Friend —
I love you. I will always believe in you.
