I was awakened in the stillness of the night by Avani. "There is one last thing I want to do before we go," she said as she reached for her clothing. "Will you come with me, Leo?"

"Of course, My Lady," I said, stifling a yawn as I stood to dress.

We left as silently as we could, trying not to disturb anyone as we passed. We first went to the kitchen, where Avani grabbed some fresh fruit, a few boiled eggs, flatbread, a small pot of honey, and a stoppered bottle of fruit juice. Placing it all into her rucksack, she shouldered her pack and we went on our way—wherever that was.

She led me out of the village on the same path we had taken to Sundara's—now Chanda's—house, but we turned a different way at one of the many forks. Instead of meandering a short ways along the hillside, this path climbed upwards fairly steadily, though it was not an exceedingly steep path.

The forest was pitch-black at that hour, and even my enhanced vision could not penetrate very far. The moon was as yet too slender to cast much light, and what little it did provide was unable to penetrate the dense canopy above. I paused as we stepped into the inky darkness and asked if we should carry lanterns. But Avani murmured, "No, that's not wise. Although few predators hunt near the village, we do get some now and then. And it's best to try not to draw their attention with the light. If it becomes necessary, I can cast a light spell. However, I can—and have—walked these paths with my eyes closed. So take my hand, and I'll guide you. Just go slow, and take care where you place your feet."

We made our way through the forest slowly, my other senses compensating for the loss of visual cues. I heard shrill cries and the rustling of leathery wings as bats flew overhead, the scurries and squeaks of small rodents, and the chatter and calls of numerous crepuscular animals and birds unknown to me. Somewhere in the far distance I heard a loud shriek followed by squawks and barking cries, and, startled, I jumped. "The leopard hunts," Avani commented, as she paused to listen. "But he hunts far from here, so we needn't worry."

After we'd hiked for quite some time, Avani cautioned me that we were approaching a steep section of the path. The ground shifted beneath our feet as we scrambled up, slipping on fallen flowers and leaves and loose soil. Avani kept a firm grip on my hand, though, and we helped each other to climb up. When we reached the top, I saw an opening in the trees, and the pale grey of pre-dawn lay just beyond.

I stepped between the parted trees into the dim light—though it was bright in comparison to the forest behind us. Looking around, I saw that we were on a relatively open, fairly flat spot on the side of the hill. The ground was covered with soft grass where I stood, but up ahead it gave way to bare rock. I walked to the edge and looked out, awestruck by the view before me.

Emerald green hills covered in lush forest undulated as far as I could see, like velvet cushions thrown down by the gods for their repose. The sky was a deep blue still, nearly black, but just above the hills before me, the edge of the sky was just beginning to lighten.

Looking back, I saw Avani had sunk to the ground and just sat there in silence, her eyes closed. I turned and walked back over to her and sat on the ground next to her. Pulling a pair of mangoes from her bag and handing one to her, I said, "This place is lovely, with a magnificent view. But I assume you didn't come here just to admire the scenery."

She shook her head, then leaned against me as I put an arm around her. "No. I wanted to come here because... this was where Sundara died. I... I wanted to let him know that, well... that I'm okay.

"You see, Bhima's abuse had gotten worse and worse as he grew increasingly angry with me for continuing to see Sundara. He somehow figured out that we'd continued to meet privately. Looking back, I suspect he just followed me—he was a good tracker, and could move silently when he chose. If he did follow me, I had no idea he was there.

"Anyway, I had arranged to meet Sundara one last time, to tell him I had to stop seeing him, that the abuse was getting to be more than I could take. So we went for one last walk, and ended up here. But Bhima had either followed us or somehow guessed we'd come there, and he found us.

"He attacked Sundara, who had no weapons training at all—he was a musician, not even trained as an Avanan. I tried to stop him, but I was only eighteen and nowhere near strong enough. Then Sundara fell and tumbled down to the edge and over. I managed to catch hold of him, but I wasn't strong enough to pull him up. He... he told me to let go, that I couldn't save him, and that it was the only thing he could do to save me. He told me to live to see a happier day, and that, if Ventu permitted, he'd watch over me. And then... then he let go of my hand.

"I swore to him afterwards that I would live, believing in his vision of a happier life for me even though I couldn't see any hope of it then. But somehow... it happened all the same. And I wanted him to know." Then she rose and walked to the edge of the precipice and looked down, and I followed.

Gazing down, I saw far below us a wide, blue lake, still dark in the fading shadows of night. "This is where he fell," Avani said, as we stood looking down. "That lake below us is shallow and rocky. He struck a boulder at the edge of the water and died. I don't remember anything for a little while afterwards—I don't know if I fainted, or if it was the shock." She sighed and turned her head to look eastwards, to where delicate shades of pink and lavender and blue had begun to tint the hem of the sky. She murmured, as if to herself, "Ventu's sunrise kingdom," then leaned forward to look over the edge once again.

As she gazed quietly down at the shallow lake far below, a white bird flew down from I know not where and perched on her shoulder, startling us both. As it settled, I saw it was a peacock—a pure white peacock. He next hopped to the ground and strutted towards me, raising his covert feathers and fanning them out brashly as he regarded me with a brilliant blue eye. Pacing before me, he looked me up and down as if considering me, making up his mind about me. After a few minutes, he stopped, lowered his long, elegant feathers,  and bobbed his head, almost as if bowing to me. Then he flew back to Avani's shoulder, and as he settled there, he caressed her cheek with his own, looking for all the world like an adored pet expressing affection for its beloved mistress.

After a few moments, he launched himself from his perch, spreading his wings for flight. He soared away to the east, towards the sun just as it began to peek over the tree-covered hills. And while I couldn't swear that I didn't just lose him in the dazzling sunlight, it seemed to me that he simply vanished.

I looked over at Avani, who stood staring into the sunrise, and her cheeks were wet with tears as she whispered, "Thank you." She turned to look back at me, and though her smile was sweet, her eyes were full of mingled grief and wonder. Then she took my hand in hers, and together we slowly started down the long, winding path that lay ahead.

**************

I carefully blotted my last words, then blew to dry the ink before closing the large, thick, leather-bound journal and pushing it back. I felt a light touch on my shoulder, and I reached up to take Avani's hand as I turned to look at her as she stood behind me, smiling down with her eyes as well as her lips.

"The children are taking a nap," she said in a low voice. "Is this your letter?"

"Yes," I said with a grin. "It's grown a bit, hasn't it?" Seeing her curiosity, I turned it towards her. "You can take a look, if you wish."

Her eyes sparkling, amused that I was so easily able to interpret her moods, she lifted the cover and read the first few lines, her eyes moving rapidly down the page. She raised an eyebrow now and again as she skimmed through it, reading a paragraph here, a page there... laughing at some half-forgotten anecdote or sniffling slightly, her eyes tearing, as the words recalled to her some poignant memory. Finally she closed it and looked at me, her expression one of confusion.

"It's lovely, Leo. But I thought you meant this to be a letter to Maria, telling her all about your life—this is more about me than about you!"

I pushed my chair back and drew her down onto my lap to give her a kiss. Nuzzling my cheek against her silky hair, I replied, "Well, My Lady, your story is my story. Our lives are forever and inextricably intertwined now."

Turning that shade of rosy pink I so loved to see, she nestled against me, putting her arms around my neck as she gazed at the large tome on the desk.

"Is it done, then?" she asked after a moment.

"I certainly hope not," I said with a chuckle. "I hope to fill many more volumes before our story is finished."

Stifling a laugh, Avani said, "Well, if this is going to be one of your 'letters carried on the wind,' it's going to take quite a gale to deliver it!"

I pulled her closer to me, and began to nibble at her neck as I murmured, "Well, why not? After all, the winds blow just as strong through the past, present, and future...."