He'd spent most of his life running, a new name and identity every time they got close. In a hundred towns in the world, he had caches of weapons and supplies, as well as allies who didn't know who he truly was but would do as he asked.
And one thing he always arranged was that if he was going to fake his death, someone would arrange for his grave to be full of weapons.
But this time, he'd fallen in love, for a given value of the term, and his grieving lover was left to arrange a cremation ceremony.
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