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Hearts & Minds & Empires

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It didn't matter that Richard Cypher was the Seeker of Truth: a hero and legend; a man like none other, set to save the world—must like a star that could light up the sky... It didn't matter that he was raised sheltered and protected in Hartland, a small village out in the backwoods of the Westland; a man of great innocence then, but also of great courage and devotion.

It never mattered that Kahlan Amnell was a confessor, not even when she became the last confessor alive or that she was the Mother Confessor of all the Midlands, a title of great nobility and honour.

So why should it matter that Kahlan grew up surrounded by war and death before finding her way to the Confessors' Palace in Aydindril, at the mere age of 11, a place where she was then given an exceptional education and where she would learn to grow as a confessor and most importantly, a human, as an orphan among orphans, with enough issues and a vocation to scare most men away?

Richard and Kahlan's love and friendship were metaphysical, and the time they spent together was enough for each of them. It was special to them both as they appreciated each other's heart, intelligence, skill for battle and sense of humour. In more ways than one, they were one and the same, the connection building their bond stronger than any one they had ever had or known.

Here's how it went...

At night, after their quests, they would hold each other and pray to the Gods for healing and salvation: for long lives to live and happiness to be had together; of course, they would do this only when they were done praying for all of mankind and civilization.

Then, in their sleep, inches from each other, they would dream of each other in the most intimate ways: making love—not war—, getting married, having a big family and growing old together. In a million different ways, their fantasies would complement each other.

A moment in time—One early morning, next to the blazing fire they had set, Richard smiled at Kahlan, pushed a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear, looked deep into her eyes and proudly said, with a glint of something in his eyes, “I loved you first, Kahlan,”

“Oh, but I love you most now, Richard,” replied Kahlan before stealing a kiss.

Never mind that they were destined to go in different directions.

Never mind that their time together was counted in months, not years.

Thus, it shouldn't come as a surprise that, as the story goes, they would never find what they were looking for. Those treasured moments of shared solitude and just feeling well were stand-alone.

A tragedy would befall them: they would both die horrible deaths: Kahlan would die first—of sickness—, and Richard would die only a few weeks later, at the Pillars of Creation, on the front lines of war, armed with his sword and followed by Zeddicus and his natural talent as a sorcerer and the First Wizard, and Cara with the power of the Agiel and her ability to kick major butt as a Mord-Sith, a sea of dead driving them all slowly insane, stabbed in the back by his very own wayward brother, Darken Rahl, now a mindless slave to the keeper, the rest of them set ablaze by D'Haran army. As the prophecy goes, without Kahlan's help and guidance, Richard, the much prophesied hero and savior of humanity, would fail, and the keeper would win: unable to seal the keeper in the Underworld and close the rift between the Underworld and land of the living, Hell would rise.

And so, with the world's last hope for salvation gone, the world would come to an end and get sucked into Hell.

The trees would bleed fire and block the dark black sky, and the waters would consist of boiling lava and volcanic bombs; a bottomless pit of eternal suffering and lamentation where it would rain sulfuric acid all the time, the atmosphere mostly made of Carbon Dioxide.

What was once mankind surrounded by a massive horde of zombies with Richard and Kahlan to stave them off would be a realm where everyone is a horrifyingly poisonous and disfigured creature, suffering without discrimination or undue preference, forever lost in the madness of their souls.

Although Richard and Kahlan were made for each other, nothing could save them in the end. Their deaths had been imminent all along.

Chapter Text

“Don't go, Cara...”

“I love you, Denna—with everything I've got, but I'm going, and that's final,”

“But I don't want you to go...” cried Denna. She was prepared to beg her to stay.

Maybe if Cara reasoned with her... “Richard needs me... If we don't seal the rift...”

Denna cried louder. “Fuck Richard! Fuck everyone and everything! I want you to stay,”

That's when Cara stepped closer to Denna, her arms coming around her trembling body to hold her close and tight against her chest. She rested her cheek on her hair as Denna laid her forehead on her shoulder, her tears soaking through her shirt.

“I wish you wouldn't go,” whispered Denna.

“I wish I didn't have to go either, but I have to save the world. The world needs our help,” softly responded Denna.

“Who will save you, Cara? Maybe I should come...” said Denna, pulling back to look at Cara.

“You're losing it, Denna. Don't be silly. You have to stay and take care of Lisa,”

At that, Denna went back in for a hug and held on tighter to her.

“Just come back to me, okay? Come back to us,”

“I will,” answered Cara. “Give Lisa a kiss for me,” she then added, referring to their daughter, before leaning in to press her lips against Denna's.