The moment has come. Shortly after dreaming my characters into existence in 2010, I knew this scene was coming. It is finally here, and I don't want to write it. My fingers are throwing a tantrum and refusing to cooperate, almost as if my characters have each taken hold of a separate digit and are pulling against it with all his/her strength (and they are much stronger than I). They know, as well as I, that there is no alternate ending; this is the way it was always meant to be. That doesn't make it any less painful.
I have grown to love my characters, all of them. My antagonists aren't these purely evil characters who deserve to die, and my protagonists are not perfect, either. Death does not come only to those who have earned it. It cares not how you've lived your life; it stills your heart because it can. The war between the Diasodz and Raizyns has come, and war always brings death. It is inevitable. And I must write it.
But I don't want to. How do I say goodbye to some of these characters when I can empathize with their choices? How do I take them away from those who love them only to leave my other characters suffering with their loss? Why do the prophecies always have to be right?
I haven't written a single word of the scene, and already I am drained. It's playing on repeat in my head, and I'm trying to rewrite it so that I save a character or three, but it always comes back to the original scene. There is no point in procrastinating any longer. The end has come, and it must be written. I only hope that when it is over, my characters (and I) can find peace with the aftermath.