Question 'Requiem' and 'Requiem Revisited'

Years ago, on the old Crystal Hall forums I had posted the following two stories. They were inspired by in-story events occurring at that time and the forum discussions about them.

They are both very short, the first a study in grief with a tinge of that good old Whateley 'never say die' at the end.

The second, breaking that same mold, a fanfare of triumph for the same character.

I don't recall the specifics of what she said that inspired it, and with the old site now long buried I doubt I ever will, but the first story was preceded by:

Damn you Kristin! I have a fic to be working on!

Requiem

Walking through the door of her office, Elizabeth switched on the floor lamps, letting their dim, warm glow push back the darkness just a little. Outside the window, snow flurries fell from leaden clouds tinged orange by the argon lamps of the campus and nearby town.

With a heavy sigh, she unwrapped her black silk scarf and draped it over a hook on her coat-tree before shrugging out of her long black overcoat. Black, a theme repeated in the stylish suit she wore, even the shirt was gray rather than the usual white or pastel she would have chosen.

Eyes glistening, she moved slowly to her unusually empty desk. Tonight it contained but three items, no in-box, no out-box. The computer was folded away in its hidden niche. Even the phone had been tucked into a drawer. No more distractions, just a box of tissues, a picture and the album.

Briefly, she considered a finger of scotch, but decided, as she had each time in the past that these kids deserved her sobriety tonight. As the radiator popped and pinged mournfully she flipped open the cover of the album. Lightly tracing her fingers along the faces, she named each one, occasionally dabbing the moisture from her eyes before it could drip and damage the precious pictures.

Turning to the shelf behind her, she lifted off a stubby red candle and set it on the desk. Lighting it she turned to the photo lying on the mat. As she lifted it into the album, she once more spoke the promise... the one she had as yet been unable to keep.

"You will be the last."

Holding it in place, she dripped a dot from the candle onto each corner, pressing a small school seal into the soft wax. As it cooled, she stared one final time into the leaf-green eyes of Nikki Reilly.

A quiet knock at her door interrupted the moment. She considered ignoring it, but something inside her forced her to answer it. In the administrative area outside her office seemed to stand half the school. At the front were the remaining members of Team Kimba, backed by the many friends and even a few of the enemies they'd made in their short time at Whateley. But at the very front, capturing her full attention, stood Sara Waite and her father.

"Children," she smiled wanly. "How can I help you this evening?"

"Well," Sara looked at her dad, then the group behind her. "We need to connect the simulation system to GEO."

Requiem Revisited

Walking through the door of her office, Elizabeth switched on the floor lamps, letting their dim, warm glow push back the darkness just a little. Outside the window, snow flurries fell from the orange tinged clouds, softly lit by the argon lamps of the campus and nearby town. Closing the door, she turned and hung a suit bag on the coat-hook mounted high on its rich wooden finish.

With a sigh, she unwrapped her black silk scarf and draped it over a hook on her coat-tree before shrugging out of her long black overcoat. Black, a theme repeated in the stylish suit she wore, even the shirt was gray rather than the usual white or pastel she would normally have chosen. Tonight called for something special, but it also called for continuity.

Eyes glistening, she moved slowly to her unusually empty desk. Tonight it contained but three items, no in-box, no out-box. The computer was folded away in its hidden niche. Even the phone had been tucked into a drawer. No more distractions, just a box of tissues, an empty frame and the album.

Briefly, she considered a finger of scotch, but decided that as she had for each mournful time past that these kids deserved her sobriety, even in a moment of happiness. As the radiator popped and pinged she flipped open the cover of the album. Lightly tracing her fingers along the faces, she named each one, occasionally dabbing the moisture from her eyes before it could drip and damage the precious pictures.

Lighting the red candle on her desk, she turned to the shelf behind her, lifting a silver letter opener and laying it on the desk. Turning back several pages, lightly tracing her fingers around the smiling face graced with a halo of long blonde hair. Holding the blade in the flame she counted slowly, then used it to melt free the wax holding the photo to the mat. As she lifted it out of the album, she once more spoke the a variant of the promise... the one she had as yet been unable to keep.

"Today you are one less. May your number never grow again."

Prying open the clasps on the back of the empty frame she returned its most precious possession. With a smile, she replaced the backing and stood the silver frame on her desk, the joy-filled face staring back at her with a sly grin. Tears again ran down her face as she stared into the eyes of Shelly Carson, her daughter.

Dabbing her eyes dry, she extinguished the candle, returning it and the album to their place of honor on the bookshelf behind her desk. Standing, she opened the bag on the back of her door, removing from it the brightly colored dress she had chosen for the evening. The one that was the exact shade Shelly had once painted her room 15 years before.

Elizabeth adjusted the bow at her throat as a quiet knock at her door interrupted the moment. She considered flinging it open and rushing through but decorum overrode enthusiasm, forcing her to answer it in a refined manner. In the administrative area outside her office seemed to stand the entire magical arts department. At the front were the girls of the Literary Club, each of them carrying a beribboned and wrapped box. But at the very front, capturing her full attention, stood Maggie Finson and Eliza Grimes.

With a slight bow, the two witches smiled. Eliza reached out, touching the Headmistress' elbow.

“Elizabeth, it is time.”