"You should have dressed up as a hobbit," Bay said.
Rowan rolled her eyes. "Hardy har har. I already look like a proper hobbit in my HDF uniform." She pulled out another costume from her closet. "Here. This is yours."
He blinked. "I don't get a say in what I wear?"
"Nope!" Rowan's grin widened.
Bay unfolded his costume. He frowned. "Jeans? And a wife-beater shirt with some Chinese drawing?"
"Come on, you know this one!" Rowan said. "You're Jack Burton! From Big Trouble in Little China! You know, your favorite movie?"
He frowned. "I thought that was your favorite movie."
Rowan rolled her eyes. "My favorite movies are The Lord of the Rings. All three."
"Which is why you should be a hobbit."
Rowan groaned. "Be good, or I'll force you to go as Zardoz." She reached for her minicom. "Don't force me to show you Sean Connery's outfit from Zardoz again."
Bay turned green. "I'll be good!"
It was a small wedding. Neither of them wanted a large affair. In fact, they shared the day with another couple: Tom and Leona. Rowan had expected the two to wear their full military uniforms. She was surprised—and pleased—to see otherwise. Tom wore a white buttoned shirt, untucked over white trousers, which matched his silvery hair and stubbly beard. Leona wore a simple white dress over her very pregnant belly.
They gathered with their friends in a garden. The autumn morning was crisp, the sky clear and blue. Maple leaves glided in the breeze and rustled beneath their feet. Pumpkins rested among bales of hay, and fresh apples filled straw baskets. Swans swam in the nearby stream.
Tom and Leona approached the wedding arch first. Tom wore laurels in his silver hair, and he smiled—a rare, warm smile, which few people had ever seen. Leona's dark hair cascaded down to her waist, strewn with wildflowers, and her feet were bare. Everyone in the crowd whispered of her beauty.
She's easily the most beautiful woman on Earth, Rowan thought, watching from the crowd. She felt plain by comparison, what with her skinny body, short hair, and crooked teeth. But then the jealously passed. And Rowan felt nothing but joy for her friend.
They had no priest, no rabbi, no minister. They had their community and their love. That was enough.
Tom held Leona's hands. He gazed into her eyes and spoke to her.
"Who is a woman of valor? She is worth more than rubies. She can roar like a lioness, fighting for light, and she can love like a mother dove, keeping her young safe under her wing. She is like an autumn flower, offering beauty and joy before the winter, and she is like a mountain, strong and eternal through wind and snow. She is a calm lake of clear water, offering stillness and peace, and she is wildfire through the grasslands, clearing a path for new life. Who is a woman of valor? She is lightning and rainbow, she is flame and mist, she is a bright blade and a sprig of olive. She is a woman I love. We fought side by side. And together, we will build a home. You are my woman of valor, Leona. And I'm proud that you're my bride."
They kissed, and Leona laughed as Tom lifted her in his arms. He carried Leona down the aisle as the crowd cheered. Still laughing, Leona stole his laurel and placed it on her own head.
Bay and Rowan were still waiting in the crowd. As Tom walked by, he nodded at them and winked.
If was their turn now. Bay and Rowan stepped up to the wedding arch.
Suddenly Rowan felt foolish. Everyone was looking at them. Why had she prepared these silly costumes? Tom and Leona had been so beautiful, wearing all white, laurels and flowers in their hair.
Meanwhile, Bay and I got dressed for Comic-Con, Rowan thought.
Her cheeks flushed. Suddenly Rowan wanted to run. To flee all these people looking at her. Why had she even wanted to get married in public? Why hadn't she just married Bay without a crowd, or just remained his girlfriend? She wanted to hide in her trailer. Like she had hidden all those years in the ducts. To vanish from view. All the eyes seemed to burn her.
But Rowan took a deep breath.
This is a good day, she told herself. This is a day of joy. We suffered through so many years of pain. We lost so much. Let us have a good day.
She turned toward Bay. She imagined that if she felt self-conscious, Bay would be positively squirming. But he wasn't even blushing. He was looking at her with softness and love. He took her hands.
"I'm not a poet like Tom," Bay said. "I don't have beautiful words to say. Not as beautiful as you are. See, even that sounded corny." Now he finally blushed. "But I'll say this. When I met you, Rowan, I was a broken man. I was hurt, afraid, lost. And when I saw you, I saw somebody pure. I saw a beautiful soul in a world of darkness. You made me want to be a better man. And over the past six years, I hope that I became a better man. Rowan, you are the most wonderful person I know. I've never met anyone kinder, smarter, or braver. I love how you can quote Monty Python and Blackadder at will. I love how you can dance around to K-pop one moment, then bang your head to Iron Maiden the next. I love that you can devour fifteen pancakes in one sitting, and get syrup all over your face, without ever being less adorable. I love how you're a genius at computers, but still get frustrated and shout at Angry Birds. I've fought at your side for six years. And those were years of war. Of hardship. Of loss. But they were also the best years of my life. Because they were with you. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Rowan. You are my little hobbit, and you are the love of my life."
She grinned. "Not bad, pancake." She mussed his hair. "Love you forever."
They kissed and the crowd cheered again.
Rowan had never been good at social gatherings. She needed a couple shots of whiskey to steady her nerves. Then she found herself laughing. Moving between the guests. Telling dumb jokes and quoting Monty Python. She horrified a few people, reciting the sketch where John Cleese slaughtered the wedding guests in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. But Bay laughed. And that's what mattered to Rowan.
She even danced with him. With people watching. Rowan loved to dance, but she had never danced with others looking. Bay was horrible at it. So was she, to be honest. Nobody cared. Others joined them, and even Fillister hit the dance floor, twirling around on his metal feet.
Rowan even played a few K-pop songs.
"I wish they could have been here," she said to Bay once they returned to their seats, exhausted. "Brooklyn. And Emet. And Mairead and Ramses and all the others. I wish they could have shared this day with us."
Bay hugged her.
That night, they returned to their new home. It was still under construction, gradually taking form. Rowan had designed the house herself. It was shaped like a hobbit hole, carved into a hillside, modeled after Bag End from The Lord of the Rings. Her dream home.
Their clothes were already off in the foyer. They never made it to the bedroom. Bay and Rowan made love on the living room rug. Rowan just paused long enough to lower the framed portraits of their parents. Some things she didn't need a crowd for.
Afterward, Bay lit a fire in the hearth. They curled up in a blanket and watched an episode of Stranger Things. They never finished the episode. Rowan pulled his clothes off again, and they made love—more slowly this time, gazing into each other's eyes all the while.
They saved the third time for the bedroom. It left them truly exhausted. They fell asleep in each other's arms.
The next morning, Rowan woke at dawn. Bay was still sound asleep. She looked at him, at her husband. He was beautiful in the dawn, she thought. The morning light turned his hair and beard bright gold, and the scars on his body, and his missing arm, did not diminish his beauty in her eyes. He had just turned thirty a few days ago. Yes, he had changed. He was no longer that boy from Paradise Lost, a lost soul living for drugs, booze, and gambling. The war perhaps had scarred him, but it had hardened him. Broken him, then rebuilt him wiser and stronger than before.
As it did to me, Rowan thought.
Silently, she slipped out of the house, leaving Bay to sleep. Fillister
joined her, and they hiked in the dawn across the hills. There was still so much destruction everywhere. Charred trees. Craters from explosives. Animal skeletons. Thousands of graves. But there was new life too. New trees and flowers and birds that filled the world with life.
Rowan sat on a fallen log. She looked around her. At the beauty of Earth. At the bustling city of Port Addison along the misty river. At her home on the hill. And tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Oi, Row!" Fillister cocked his head. "What's wrong?"
"It's so beautiful," Rowan whispered. "But I can't forget, Fill."
He nuzzled her. "I know, love."
"So much bad happened." Rowan lowered her head. "I lost my family. I lost so many friends. I can't forget all the horrors, Fill. The bonecrawlers that chased me through the ducts. The scorpions slaughtering the millions. The basilisks burning and bombing the world that I love. I can't forget my clones in New York City, twisted and begging for death. I can't forget seeing my parents on Xerka's tower, risen again, and …"
She could say no more. Her tears fell.
Fillister climbed onto the log beside her. He was a robot, his body cold and metallic, but when he slung a leg across her, it made Rowan feel a little warmer, a little safer.
"I'm sorry, Row. I wish I could delete your memories, same as I can delete me old files."
Rowan leaned her head against him. "We've come a long way, old friend."
"We sure have, Row."
She smiled and wiped her eyes. "We've been together for twenty years now. Since I was two years old, and Dad gave me a little pocket watch that could turn into a dragonfly. And we've both changed so much. You've turned into a wolf, and I've turned into …" She sighed. "Well, considering that I built a damn hobbit hole for my house, I suppose I'm still a hobbit. But maybe a wiser one. A stronger one."
"You've always been strong," Fillister said. "And wise. I never doubted that. But yes, it's been a long road for us."
"And the journey isn't over yet," Rowan said. "There's still so much to do! I need to keep studying the art of weaving. I haven't forgotten my goal. I want to become a powerful weaver like Gadriel, able to build a shield around Earth. There are many alien civilizations out there, Fill. And they won't just leave us alone. They hate us. They fear us. Especially now that we have a planet of our own, that we defeated Xerka. They'll attack again, and we have to be ready. Not just to build a shield. But to build a proper artillery. And a new fleet."
"We'll be ready, Row. If any more of them aliens show up, I'll bite 'em right in their backsides!" He bared his metal teeth.
Rowan laughed. "You're our fiercest weapon. And I want to do more than just prepare for war. I want to rebuild. Not just buildings. I mean—who we are. As a people. Our culture. Our legends. Our identity. There are millions of humans on Earth now, refugees from a thousand different worlds. We need new stories to unite us. Books, music, movies. Art from our own generation." She grinned. "Maybe we can finally film Dinosaur Island."
Fillister's eyes widened. "Oi, Row! Maybe you can build me a robotic dino body! I'd make a smashing T-Rex, don't you think?"
She laughed. "Let's not get too ahead of ourselves. Although that would be cool. I could ride you! Oh, and you could have chainsaws for arms! And your tail could shoot laser beams! Oh, oh, and your teeth would be authentic Japanese katanas! That'll be bitchin'!" She sighed. "I'm going to be busy for a while with all these projects."
Suddenly tears were flowing again. She hugged her companion.
"I'm here for you, Row," Fillister said. "Always and forever."
She looked at the swaying fields of flowers. At the birch and maple saplings. At Port Addison by the river, a city where her friends and husband awaited.
"There is a lot of pain," she whispered. "There are memories that will never leave me. I don't know if I can ever be truly happy, if I can ever forget. The nightmares won't leave me. My scars won't heal. The pain of all this loss will always hurt. But there's beauty here too. There is joy and laughter and love. And that is more than enough. I'm hurt. I'm sad. I'm haunted and will never heal. But I'm also happy at the same time. I'm so happy." Her stomach growled, and she laughed. "And hungry. Let's go eat breakfast."
She returned to her little hobbit hole. When she stepped back inside, the smell of pancakes and syrup greeted her.
"Ah, good, you're back from your stroll," Bay said. He wore an apron and held a spatula. "Pancakes are almost ready."
Rowan sniffed. "I think they might be a bit too ready."
Smoke wafted from the kitchen. Bay's eyes widened.
"My blueberry pancakes!" He dashed back into the kitchen.
They sat down to eat—one batch of deliciously moist blueberry pancakes, and another batch of extra crispy pancakes. Soon Bay had to rush back into the kitchen when the bacon began to burn. He was a wonderful man, her husband. But needed some practice cooking.
After breakfast, they sat on the front porch, drinking coffee, watching the people come and go. Mothers carried newborn babies. Young couples strolled hand in hand. Families were forming, life was returning.
Yes, Rowan thought and leaned against Bay. I'm happy.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Every day now, they flew in.
Starships ferrying the last human refugees.
Leona had landed on Earth nearly three years ago with only two hundred colonists. And now the ships kept coming. With Earth free, with the scorpions and basilisks defeated, the last of humanity came home.
By late autumn, nearly five million humans were living on Earth.
Once they had been billions. But their last remnants had united. Had come home.
Your work is complete, Dad, Leona thought. We did it.
That autumn, Leona gave birth to a pink, squealing, beautiful little boy. He came out a month early, an eager little thing, but healthy and hungry and ready to face the world. Exhausted after the birth, Leona rocked her little boy in her arms, and Tom stood at her side, beaming.
It was sixteen years since that horrible day, since Leona had lost her first pregnancy and husband. Often during those long years, Leona had thought hers would be a life dedicated to war, a life of suffering and emptiness. Here, at age thirty-three, she found new joy.
I have Earth, she thought. I have a new family.
She kissed the little boy.
"We should name him Emet," Tom said. "After your father."
Leona considered. "I dunno. I loved my dad. But Emet … Not the best name. How about we name him after your dad?"
Tom winced. "Archibald? Heavens no. What has the poor boy ever done to you?" He thought for a moment. "How about Leo?"
Leona frowned. "What, after me?"
"Why not? You both are lions." Tom caressed the baby's thin plume of hair. "Little Leo Ben-Ari."
She took her husband's hand. "Not Leo Shepherd?"
"No." Tom smiled at the baby. "The name Shepherd comes from my profession on an alien world. But the Ben-Ari family is famous on Earth. The family that has led humanity for thousands of years. This little one is a prince. He's a Ben-Ari."
"How about Shepherd Ben-Ari then?"
"That can work," Tom said. "But does he really need two last names?"
"Shepherd will be his first name," Leona said. "That way he gets a name from each of us. Shepherd Ben-Ari."
"Shepherd Ben-Ari." Tom nodded. "I like it."
Little Shepherd stirred in her arms, then fell back asleep. Leona looked at him. At her little boy.
She knew there would be many battles ahead. She knew that the cosmos was filled with danger, that new empires would rise to replace the basilisks, that Earth could never lay down her shield and sword. Leona led this world now, and she knew that the road ahead was still long and winding, and that many enemies lurked among the shadows. But for the first time in many years, true hope filled Leona. True light filled her life.
May you never know war, she thought, holding her son close. May you never know loss. May you never k
now the pain your parents knew. You are among the first babies born on New Earth. I hope we can build you a good world. A better life than we had. Your father and I fought for humanity all our lives. But we were also fighting for you, my son. I am a lioness, and you are my cub. I will always fight for you, and I will always love you. She kissed his head. May you know nothing but peace.
The End
AFTERWORD
Thank you for reading The Legacy of Earth. This concludes the Children of Earthrise series. Thank you for taking this journey with me.
One story has ended. But there are more stories in the Earthrise universe.
Have you read Earthrise: The Original Series? Set 2,000 years before the events in Children of Earthrise, it tells the story of Earth's first alien war. Start reading with Earth Alone.
And I'm still writing new Earthrise stories. This universe will keep growing. A universe full of heroes, battles, and a little blue planet we all fight for.
Want to know when I release new Earthrise books? Here are some ways to stay updated:
* Join my mailing list at (and receive three free ebooks): DanielArenson.com/MailingList
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* Join my Facebook fan group, The Dragons of Darkness.
* Follow me on Twitter: Twitter.com/DanielArenson
And if you have a moment, please review The Heirs of Earth (the first novel in the series) on Amazon. Help other science fiction readers and tell them why you enjoyed reading. Leave your review here.
Thank you again, dear reader, and I hope we meet again between the pages of another book.
Daniel
NOVELS BY DANIEL ARENSON
EARTHRISE
Earth Alone
Earth Lost
Earth Rising
Earth Fire
Earth Shadows
Earth Valor
The Legacy of Earth (Children of Earthrise Book 6) Page 27