2nd of Fall, 514 AV
It was the 2nd of Fall. The day brought many memories, most of them wonderful. But together, came a feeling of despair that was really hard to shake off. Usually, Dia would be with her. But now, for the first time, she was alone. Completely alone. It made her heart ache, it made her resolve falter, it made her want to turn and run towards Hollard and kill the man on the spot, revenge be damned.
But she wouldn't. Five years ago, her mother had died, by the hands of their owner. Twenty tree days before, Dia had died by the hand of the same man. Death was just too sweet for what he had done. She had spend twenty one days planning her revenge, and she would follow the plan until the very end, no matter how she felt on the way.
"Let's go." Hollard said, wiping his mouth on the napkin and pushing the plate away from him. Ayviss took it, automatically, her mind some place far away. "I have more important things to do than watch you cry at a grave that isn't even your mother's."
Ayviss controlled her wish to growl at him, and throw the plate on the ground. Instead, she simply took it to the kitchen, put it on the sink, and returned, quiet, watching as Hollard wore his coat and his hat, grey coat and black hat, like always. Ayviss closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and followed him out of the house, not being able to bring herself to smile to him, like she had been doing the past few days. She never cried, despite what her owner said, but it was true that her mother didn't have a grave at the cemetery. In fact, Ayviss didn't know why she felt so compelled to go there, every day, to morn at a random grave. But it was something, one of the few things, she allowed herself to feel on the second day of Fall. Surprisingly, it was one of the few things Hollard allowed her, too. She doubted he would be so understanding when Dia's death birthday came but, hopefully, she wouldn't need to find out.
The woman followed her owner, slowly, towards the outside of Sunberth. The Dust Bed, the formal cemetery of the city, was far from flattering to the dead. It was just like the city, poor, not well kept, and with nothing really worth of note. Hollard stopped, and allowed Ayviss to enter the place first. She could feel his eyes on her back, watching, making sure she wouldn't try to escape. She wanted, and she could if she tried. The city was behind her, she could ran faster than Hollard, and there were plenty of places to hide. But she wouldn't.
Ayviss reached a random grave, one very simple, just a simply stone with a name carved on it. Alena Hillford. Ayviss ran her fingers on it, watching the imperfections of the stone, and just stayed there, kneeling on the dirty floor.
"Creep." Hollard buffed, and Ayviss didn't have to raise her head to know he was talking about Jebediah. The man that took care of the cemetery was truly creepy, in ways that Ayviss couldn't even begin to name, but still, it matter little to nothing to her.
Specially that day. She kept facing the stone, watching the grass that were around the grave, the lack of any flowers, or anything to mark the grave except for the name. At least it had a name. There were some that were forgotten by all, forever.
Like her own mother, whose body was probably burned and disposed off somewhere, somewhere Ayviss could never reach.
It was the 2nd of Fall. The day brought many memories, most of them wonderful. But together, came a feeling of despair that was really hard to shake off. Usually, Dia would be with her. But now, for the first time, she was alone. Completely alone. It made her heart ache, it made her resolve falter, it made her want to turn and run towards Hollard and kill the man on the spot, revenge be damned.
But she wouldn't. Five years ago, her mother had died, by the hands of their owner. Twenty tree days before, Dia had died by the hand of the same man. Death was just too sweet for what he had done. She had spend twenty one days planning her revenge, and she would follow the plan until the very end, no matter how she felt on the way.
"Let's go." Hollard said, wiping his mouth on the napkin and pushing the plate away from him. Ayviss took it, automatically, her mind some place far away. "I have more important things to do than watch you cry at a grave that isn't even your mother's."
Ayviss controlled her wish to growl at him, and throw the plate on the ground. Instead, she simply took it to the kitchen, put it on the sink, and returned, quiet, watching as Hollard wore his coat and his hat, grey coat and black hat, like always. Ayviss closed her eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and followed him out of the house, not being able to bring herself to smile to him, like she had been doing the past few days. She never cried, despite what her owner said, but it was true that her mother didn't have a grave at the cemetery. In fact, Ayviss didn't know why she felt so compelled to go there, every day, to morn at a random grave. But it was something, one of the few things, she allowed herself to feel on the second day of Fall. Surprisingly, it was one of the few things Hollard allowed her, too. She doubted he would be so understanding when Dia's death birthday came but, hopefully, she wouldn't need to find out.
The woman followed her owner, slowly, towards the outside of Sunberth. The Dust Bed, the formal cemetery of the city, was far from flattering to the dead. It was just like the city, poor, not well kept, and with nothing really worth of note. Hollard stopped, and allowed Ayviss to enter the place first. She could feel his eyes on her back, watching, making sure she wouldn't try to escape. She wanted, and she could if she tried. The city was behind her, she could ran faster than Hollard, and there were plenty of places to hide. But she wouldn't.
Ayviss reached a random grave, one very simple, just a simply stone with a name carved on it. Alena Hillford. Ayviss ran her fingers on it, watching the imperfections of the stone, and just stayed there, kneeling on the dirty floor.
"Creep." Hollard buffed, and Ayviss didn't have to raise her head to know he was talking about Jebediah. The man that took care of the cemetery was truly creepy, in ways that Ayviss couldn't even begin to name, but still, it matter little to nothing to her.
Specially that day. She kept facing the stone, watching the grass that were around the grave, the lack of any flowers, or anything to mark the grave except for the name. At least it had a name. There were some that were forgotten by all, forever.
Like her own mother, whose body was probably burned and disposed off somewhere, somewhere Ayviss could never reach.
