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Rated: E · Chapter · Action/Adventure · #1889645
This will be my last post for a while. All reviews welcome :D
His face was inches from mine. My breath was quick and shallow. He moved away to cup his hands around my ankle. Darkness poured into me from his hands and I twisted away with a cry of protest.

“Lily!” A harsh whisper brought me sharply from my dream. I cringed from the dark shadow looming over me. The figure quickly backed away from me at my reaction. Memories poured back to me and I remembered where I was. The fire must have burnt out because I could hardly make out anything. Just a dream. I reassured myself

“Lily!” Rhyan called urgently again. I sat up. “The court has assembled. They’re going to let you attend the service and come to a Gathering tomorrow but we have to hurry now.” I nodded and scrambled to my feet. My left foot crumpled under my weight and I pitched sideways, only saved from hitting the floor by Rhyan who leaped forward and caught me.

“Thanks.” I said, breathless from the shock. He paused as I tested my foot again, then when it was clear it couldn’t hold up, he scooped me up in his arms and started running, trying not to jostle me. I felt embarrassed but knew there wasn’t another choice- if the council told you to come quickly; you didn’t have time to walk, let alone limp.

“Is it just asleep, or is it broken?” He asked as the forest flashed past.

“Just sprained I think, it wasn’t as bad earlier. I landed on a rock when I jumped from your trap.” I told him he nodded.

“You’re fixing that by the way.” He told me, a grin spread on his face, I laughed.

“Fair enough.” I replied. He slowed and paused on the edge on a clearing to lower me onto my foot. He pulled my arm around his neck and supported me into the crowd of Elves. The crowd parted as if we were contagious but we didn’t stop until we’d reached the front. A deep grave had been dug in front of us. I could see Father wrapped in a black shawl, eyes closed, but too stiff to be sleeping. I looked away from him and noticed that on the other side of the grave, in deep magenta and violet full-length robes, stood the Councillors, heads covered by black ceremonial veils. I removed my arm from Rhyan’s shoulder. Balancing on one leg and bowed deeply, placing my palms together and fingertips touching my forehead. When I straightened up the Head Councillor bowed his head in acknowledgement, lower than he should have to an elf facing out-casting. From the murmurs in the crowd, I was not the only one to notice this. He ignored the mutters and raising his hands into the air began to speak.

“We are here to give Senior Páule Thomas Oaken back to Mother Nature whom Father Time has taken from us.” He began, his voice pulling me into the past, with all the peaceful times, long forgotten since I joined the human world. The crowd fell silent to listen to the sombre words that rang through the glade. A small breeze whispered through the trees. The birds sounded distant and shrill, the rustle of autumn leaves only a reminder of death and decay. The weak sunlight filtered through the branches above, blinding eyes but giving no warmth. I shivered in the frigid air and suddenly found a coat being draped over my shoulders. I looked up at Rhyan and saw with shock tears tracking down his face, he smiled sadly and pulled the jacket more firmly onto my shoulders. I put a comforting arm around his waist and he put his around my shoulder. The Head Councillor stepped forward and sprinkled a handful of dirt over the grave with these words,

“You were a great part of this community; you lived long enough to become a role model for the younger generations and showed us all the wisdom that comes with years. May your legacy live on with us even now that you have gone.” He stepped back in place and one by one the other Councillors stepped forward to share similar words. Anger stirred inside me, they didn’t know him. If they had, they would not be spouting such rubbish about him. The adults could see the children looked up to him, thinking it was because he gave them wisdom, comfort and protection; but he had been lax when no one else was around; he let them roam free and be children. They looked up to him because he didn’t scold them for speaking out of turn or for scraping their knee or laughing too loud. He let them be themselves. If he could hear what they were saying, he would have laughed. Laughed and laughed until everyone around was sure he was mental.

And suddenly it struck me. He was gone. He would never hear these words, never laugh, never cry, never speak again. The grief swept through me like a tide of darkness. Tears rolled down my cheeks. People came and went with their messages of how he had been to them: a comforter, an adviser, a part of the community, a friend. Finally, it was Rhyan’s and my turn. We bend down to scoop up a handful of dirt each. We paused by the graves edge. Rhyan spoke first.

“You were so much to everyone, but you always had time for your children. You came when we needed you; put us first in every situation. For this I will always admire you, the time you took out of your life for us; for me.” He declared and threw the handful onto the partially covered body. I took a deep breath, trying to find the strength for my voice to be louder than a whisper.

“I will never forget you. You brought me up to follow my heart, to do the right thing. I am who I am because of you and for that, I am eternally grateful. My only regret is that I wasn’t there to say goodbye, I will still follow my path though, for you. I will be what you always wanted me to be. I’ll make you proud Papa.” It was quieter than speech but the silence was so absolute, it carried to every person as if I’d shouted. I released my handful and as it fell, something extraordinary happened: it morphed as it fell. The single white lily landed gently on the partially covered chest of the body of my father. I could feel my face a mask of shock; lips parted, eyes wide, body frozen. I knew what this meant but from the shocked whispering behind me, I was the only one. The crowd began to disperse, the ceremony over. A few elves stepped forward and began shovelling the dirt back in. Some probably had the Power to replace the dirt in under a minute, but it was seen as disrespectful to the dead. So many rules, so many meaningless rules. Honestly, I don’t think Father would have minded. Rhyan managed to gently pull me away from the hole and was gently steering me back into the woods when a Councillor caught up with us.

“Where are you going Probabationer Lily?” He asked, not unkindly, but Rhyan stiffened beside me.

“I have a task I need to complete tonight; I will be back in the morning for the Gathering.” I told him, “I was told I was not to stay in town tonight.” I added for good measure. He shook his head sadly.

“Plans have been changed. The Head Councillor wishes you to stay the night in his tent. As a guest.” He added quickly as Rhyan reared up on the balls of his feet. Rhyan backed down again, confused. I bowed.

“Thank you for the message I will accompany you shortly. May I say goodnight to my brother first?” I asked. The Councillor smiled and nodded his consent. We moved to one side, not quite out of hearing.

“You will come tomorrow?” I asked him. He smiled, nodded and pulled me into a hug. “Will you speak to her for me?” I whispered into his ear, my mouth hardly moving.

“I will.” He whispered back, my hair hiding his mouth. “Be careful tonight, I don’t know what he will want. It is completely-”

“Against protocol. I know. Don’t worry about me. I am a skilled Tracker; I know the signs of the hunter and the prey.” I told him, his laughter tickling my ear. We broke apart.

“Goodnight sister of mine, we shall be reunited with each other when the sun rejoins our skies.” He told me. I smiled.

“May the gods grant you dreams of fortune till then, brother of mine.” I replied and we bowed to each other, turn and walked in opposite directions.
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