While the others mourned the death of a father, Maine had finally woken up and mourned the death of her mother. Libyan–a woman as stubborn as Dune if not more, had died in hell and this ti no trace left of her existence. Well…none but one. Her scaly arm encased in ice lay in Maine's hands while she sniffled.
The dark nails had grown darker and the flesh had begun to degrade even within that ice. Her mother wanted her to consu it–to gain her powers as she had by eating nurous monsters. From the ability to consu light to the point that not even the sun could overpower her, to the effortless control of her body like changing sizes, the color of her scales and skin, as well as her limbs into that of other monsters.
Consuming her flesh would give her great strength, but the daughter cared little for sothing like this. Those darkened fingers, they'd once brushed through her hair while her mother humd a hymn. Although most of Maine's mories were bleak, never had her mother done anything to scar their childhood. Like princesses they were treated with slaves of their own that danced to their command, but with ti now gone, Maine knew that a decision had to be made.
"For you mother…" Digging her nails into the ice, she shattered it under the weight of her sorrow. And through tear-soaked lips, she bit into the harsh flesh and devoured what had remained of her mother. Not a bone, nor a fibre or a nerve, Maine left nothing of that arm and as she was done, she cried and cried so more.
The sound of her cries bounced off the mansion walls, and eventually as they landed on the witch's ears, she was broken out of her deep trance. Staring at a pale blue marble in her hand, Linkle had been wondering where things had gone wrong. But finally, she arrived at a conclusion that helped her unload the baggage that she'd been carrying for so long.
"You are no longer an astral sorceress, nothing left to do but accept it and move on." Telling herself that, she put the marble away and sat hunched over at the edge of her bed. Looking around the room as her mind finally cald, the witch let out a yawn and laid down on the bed comfortably. "But now what? Back to brewing potions? Curing diseases that nobody else can cure? Haa..."
With a sigh she accepted this new reality, for otherwise she knew she would go insane with nothing to do but worry about things that she had no control over. And much like her, another girl had been worried sick until recently. Jenna–the alchemist mage from the false hero's group. Her shattered mind had finally begun to recover, and thus she sat at the edge of a balcony munching on an apple while watching the gathered crowd at the back of the mansion.
"Who are they burying?" She asked, her voice still quivering.
"Dune Boartooth, Moxy–the fox-girl's father…" Responded Blossom, her eyes closely following her boyfriend–Tan, walking about briskly through the crowd.
"But why here?" Turning to Blossom with another bite of the apple in hand, Jenna enquired further. "Isn't this mansion a bit…"
"The stories about the living walls? Is that what's worrying you?" Having no clue herself whether those claims were true or not, Blossom didn't put them much mind. "I'm sure it's just a rumor–no way there were people used as walls of this mansion. In either case, I've heard the inn is going to be closed for a few months, until then Moxy will live with us and she wants her father close to her during that ti."
"Hmm…" Taking yet another bite, the disabled woman looked to the front again. Glancing down at everyone–even those who'd just woken up yesterday paying respect to the man's grave, she wondered whether she should head down and do the sa. "I supposed he was loved, I wish I could say the sa about my mother."
"He is loved," furrowing her brows, Blossom turned to the girl with her hands folded under her chest. "Dune may have been a brute, but the man's cooking was a damned relief every ti we adventurers ca back from a quest."
Still not entirely stable, Jenna continued to look at the crowd downstairs. Wearing a smile, she curiously watched them placing flowers on his graves, all the while, Moxy cried on her knees with the dirt that she'd dug herself still deep within her nails. As for Erika, who'd woken up just yesterday, she prayed for the man's soul to reach the heavens into the goddess' warm embrace. The elves shed tears as well, and so did Liliyana and Adith.
The others who'd gathered, Regalia, Hayley and Maria, had little connection with him but weighed by the sorrow of the others, even they couldn't help but tear up a little. Wiping their sorrows along with the rest, they stood by them in silence and through silence they paid their respect.
The sa was the case for Mino, Arche and the centaurians, they had little chance to build anything aningful with the man, but even they realized that through their silent prayers, they too could bid him well. While Arche had so trouble reciting a ntal prayer, the others had no issue at all, and in the end, Moxy and those who knew Dune well, visited him in the mansion from every corner of the city until it was far too late.
Even at the end of it all, Moxy stayed by her father's grave. Raven tried to make her co in, but when she refused he decided to keep her company by her father's grave. Staying by the departed in the whistling quiet of night, reminded Raven of a conversation from long ago, with him and the monster girls looking at the stars and pondering whether or not they would go to heaven.
"Athenia told that he's in heaven with your mother," placing a gentle hand on Moxy's back, Raven gave her a comforting squeeze. "They are together now, in the sea of stars, on a goddess's cape. And I doubt they wanna see their daughter sulking like this."
Lifting her head, Moxy stared at the grave for a while longer. Then with a nod, she lifted herself from the ground and turned to face Raven.
"Let's…head back," taking a deep breath, she shook her head and heaved a sigh. Then lifting her head again, she looked Raven in the eye. "Where's the kitchen? I wanna make everyone his favorite al."
Dorning a weak smile, the fox offered Raven a hand to get him off the ground. Smiling back at her as he took it, the mage got up on his feet and gestured for her to walk with him. Following his lead, Moxy did as she was told and upon getting to the kitchen, a culinary mayhem ensued in the dead of night. A red pepper lamb bowl, her father's favourite al–but for everyone else, it was a disaster that turned them into fla-breathing dragons.
User Comments
0 comments from readers