Flashback [Illythian District] In Memoriam

[Sigrun Dominic]

"I just-" Sigrun wiped the tears from her eyes and sniffled, quickly feeling attached to the little piece of paper. She ran her fingers softly along the dark script, ghosting over each word as if she were under the assumption that she would find traces of her grandfather there, traces that she could take home. "It's just.. I think I need to sit." Sigrun heard a soft thud from not too far away. She turned around and jerked forward at the sight of her younger cousin sitting on the floor, weeping. "Dahlia!" she called out, approaching her quickly, only to stop dead in her tracks when she spoke up once more, her words garbled by her tears. Sigmund whipped his head around from his spot by the bookshelves, his eyes searching for his relatives. "What's happened, what?" "N-Nothing, Sigmund," Sigrun looked over to her younger sibling and raised her palm. The boy, too engrossed in his own little world, quickly shrugged it off and continued to read. "There's no way. Grandpa hated writing. Said it was a waste, sitting around and forming letters when you could just draw it." Sigrun watched as the girl heaved a heavy sigh and rose from her feet, taking the piece of paper from Sigrun's hands and reading it as she walked over to the desk. "It's not grandpa's at all," the young girl said as she placed the poem on the table, "It's Grandmother's. She wrote it." Sigrun's fingers burned. She couldn't believe she'd held it, and read it, and felt for it. Anger welled up inside of her as she joined her cousin by the table and eyed the piece of paper. "Out of the both of them, she really enjoyed writing and reading. Most of the books in the library is her's, I think. She doesn't like to spend time here though, it wasn't her 'place'. She preferred the lounge or her room. While this is grandpa's 'place', this was Grandmother's storeroom." "Hm," Sigrun tapped the table thoughtfully. At least the place was still largely grandfather's, that was what mattered. "Usually though," Dahlia spoke up once more, "that it's rare to find her papers just lying around. You usually have to search the whole library before you find one. She must've been too... distracted to hide it." "Who's it for?" Sigrun wondered, eyeing the script and assuming it was for her husband. "But I wonder who she was directing the poem to? It doesn't seem like grandpa..." "No?" Sigrun squinted, taking a closer inspection. "Even though he's gone, the poem doesn't seem to indicate him at all. She wrote 'struggled to keep you', when in fact, there was no doubt of grandpa's loyalty to her at all. It's so strange..." Sigrun shrugged, turning to look at Dahlia just as she placed her gaze on her. "Who is she talking about?" "I don't know," the young blonde responded, "maybe it is grandfather, and that something was happening behind the scenes." "Or maybe it's another lover!" Sigrun turned around and saw Sigmund standing before them with a bright smile and a book in his hands. "Maybe grandma had another lover!" "Is that even possible!?" Sigrun retorted, raising an eyebrow at both Dahlia and her brother. "'Course it is, it's in your stories all the time," the little boy mumbled. Sigrun grinned and swatted him playfully. "Is not."