[ WP ] Write the third episode of non-existant series . Make us curious about what happened before episode 3 , and what happens after .

I've wanted to write a book series for a long time. If I did, this would be the end of the third book or so. I think it's going to be a bit longer than the 10k character limit that Reddit allows, so forgive me if this is in two parts. 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- - 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Four men in Foundation Green marched down the aisle, carrying Twenty-One ’ s casket through the church. Chris wished they hadn ’ t chosen cedar for the casket. It masked the scent of Twenty-One, and Chris was quickly forgetting what that was like. He turned his head back to look, tracing the pallbearers and the casket in their path down the center aisle. With each step, the light from the stained windows high above changed the casket ’ s color. Red, blue, green, yellow, red again. Another step, another color. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; As the coffin passed, Sarah buried her head in Chris ’ shoulder, ruffling the neat creases of his sleeve. He pulled her closer to himself, petting her hair, letting her bury her face in his side. She was struggling to keep it together, not sobbing, but he had no doubt there were tears. He understood, she was strong, stable, that was her persona. It was how she survived being separated from her brother, how she survived being passed from home to home, how she survived until she met Twenty-One. He wasn ’ t sure how she ’ d get through this. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Eleven shifted next to them. Chris looked. Eleven was stoic. He wasn ’ t unlike a grizzled soldier, Chris thought, sitting tall in Foundation formals, two medals on his breast glinting in the light. This wasn ’ t the first time he had lost someone, but Twenty-One had been his last surviving student. Chris doubted Eleven thought he would survive his class. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; As the pallbearers walked onto the podium, placing the casket down, behind the stand for the viewing, Chris wondered what it was he felt. It hadn ’ t been that long ago he had lost his family and friends. Strangely, though, Chris couldn ’ t shed a tear. He was sad, sure, Twenty-One may as well have been family. He was a teacher, a mentor, a second father figure for Chris when Chris had lost his father. But it wasn ’ t as bad as when he lost his home or his biological parents. It wasn ’ t like it was for Sarah. She didn ’ t have a dad until Twenty-One. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; *Sarah*. Chris felt worse for her than he did for Twenty-One. This was hitting her hard. *She was the strong one*. There was something fundamentally wrong in a universe in which Sarah cried. *She ’ s earned the right though*. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ It ’ s okay to cry, ” Chris cooed. “ You don ’ t have to be tough here if you don ’ t want to be. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Sarah didn ’ t acknowledge Chris ’ words. She continued fighting the tears. She was n't going to let anyone see her tears if she could help it. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; A priest walked up the steps to the podium. Twenty-One hadn ’ t been a religious man as far as Chris could tell, but he would have appreciated the gesture. Sarah didn ’ t move from his side throughout the speech. It was just as well, Chris wasn ’ t sure that the priest ’ s words would mean much to an atheist like Sarah. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Some long minutes passed and Chris ’ mind wandered. He wondered if there was a god, and if so, why he took Twenty-One so early. He wasn ’ t bitter or angry, just melancholy. *What god would make Sarah ’ s life so difficult? * Why should she suffer when she was the best person out of all of them? 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Eleven tapped Chris on the shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “ It ’ s almost time for you to speak. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris nodded, then turned to Sarah. “ Sarah, ” he whispered. “ Are you sure you don ’ t want to give the eulogy? You can use my words if you want. ” Sarah shook her head into his shoulder. “ I can ’ t ” she squeaked. She sounded so small. He looked over her to the seat next to her. To Sparky. He had been crying too. “ Be with her while I go, okay? ” Chris whispered. He looked back to Sarah. “ You ’ re not alone here. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris turned his attention to the priest, waiting for his queue. “... Twenty-One will be well looked after, as all good men are by God. Now I believe you will be hearing from one of Twenty-One ’ s students, one of the many lives that he has touched in his time here. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris unwrapped his arm from around Sarah and stood up. “ I ’ ll be back soon, I promise. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; She looked up. Her eyes were red. *This isn ’ t right* Chris thought. His heart hurt. “ It will be okay. I ’ ll make it that way, somehow, ” he promised her. *Don ’ t know how I ’ m going to do that. * 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris began walking to the podium. He felt his pocket for the speech he ’ d written. He wasn ’ t sure if it was good enough, but it was what he felt. As he climbed the stairs, he looked to the casket. It was open. He resisted the urge to peek inside. There would be time after. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Instead, Chris looked out on the crowd. *There are a lot of people here. * There was a generally melancholy atmosphere. It wasn ’ t everyday that a number was killed in the line of duty, especially one as accomplished, well-liked and powerful as Twenty-One. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris reached the podium and tapped the mic. It was more of a nervous act than an actual test. The priest had just used the mic after all. He pulled his speech out of his pocket and laid it flat on the podium. He had it memorized but he wanted it there anyway. Chris took a deep breath and began. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ It ’ s nice to see that so many people are here today, ” he spoke. *Already off script, this is a great start* Chris thought. “ I suppose that says a lot about Twenty-One. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; Chris looked down at the page. Suddenly his memory was failing him. He had spent hours in front of the mirror practicing this but he couldn ’ t recall what he was going to say. Sweat was starting to drip from his brow. He coughed. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ I am sorry, I wrote a speech today, ” he said. “ But I am a bit nervous. ” The audience let out a small chuckle, which Chris felt was a bit odd given the atmosphere. Chris looked to Sarah. He had to say something. He turned his eyes back to the page and began to read. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ Twenty-One meant something to all of us I think. To many of us, he was a friend, a reliable person. I know he was a mentor to more people than just myself. ” His eyes stayed on the page. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ He was tough when we needed him to be tough, selfless when we needed him to be selfless, brave, when bravery was sorely needed. All of this despite losing his home to Nine, losing his family, many of the things he cared about and more from an early age. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; A lump suddenly formed in his throat. That sounded familiar. *Am I really going to cry for Twenty-One ’ s life, now of all times? * He looked to Sarah again. He *would* keep it together for her. Chris steeled himself. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ But that ’ s the thing about Twenty-One, ” Chris said, powering through, looking up from the page, at the audience, for the first time. “ He was resilient, smart, kind, and though he didn ’ t often talk, his words had meaning. ” *Do mine? * Chris looked down again, suddenly realizing how artificial it felt. Fake, like some politician ’ s speech. Too clean, too filtered. He had gotten back in his grove, and could recall the speech like the back of his hand, but it just didn ’ t feel right. There wasn ’ t enough emotion in his words. If the speech he wrote didn ’ t convey how he felt, why should he read it? He paused, then looked to Sarah. She was still struggling. Something stirred in Chris. 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ I think my words ought to mean something as well ” Chris said, before turning his notes over on the stand. “ Twenty-One deserves better than a pre-written speech. It almost feels clinical to filter my thoughts on this, if that makes any sense. I ’ ll ad lib a bit, forgive me if I rant. ” *I hope I didn ’ t just make a mistake. * 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ I can only speak from my experience, but in times like this, when someone I love is gone, I wonder why God might do this, what purpose Twenty-One ’ s death served in the grand scheme of things. ” Chris looked to about the audience. “ But the fact is, his death didn ’ t have meaning. He died because of a conflict that existed since before he was old enough to understand it. He didn ’ t even die like a hero, like he deserved. He died of a gunshot wound in a dark and dirty room in a crappy warehouse. ” Chris paused momentarily, gauging the audience. There were varying degrees of shock, some people appeared pissed off, Eleven especially. Strangely though, Sarah didn ’ t react in any noticeable way except to struggle against the tears a bit harder now. *She thinks that too. * 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ It was his life that had meaning. ” 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp;'' Twenty-One left, in this world, a lot of himself. His personality was infectious, his kindness was multiplied by the acts of the people he met and influenced. His reliability, emulated. I see that in myself and in everyone he had contact with. ” Chris nodded to Sarah and Sparky. “ At first, when he died I felt alone again, like I did when my parents died. ” Chris paused, remembering. That ’ s where Sarah was right now. *Am I saying this for my or Sarah ’ s benefit? * 
 
 & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; & nbsp; “ The fact is though, I am not alone, I am not without Twenty-One. I have friends, people I consider family in the Foundation and I have myself. All of us have a little bit of Twenty-One in us. Like I said, that ’ s just who he was. ” 
 
 -- -- -- -- -- 
 
 Part 2 is next in the chain
