Amelia Royer (Ronsam) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rogueinladysclothing) wrote2017-10-24 07:30 pm
rogueinladysclothing) wrote2017-10-24 07:30 pm
Entry tags:
Paying Respects [Writing Prompt]
On Kairn, at least in the places Amelia knows of and has been to, there are few traditions regarding death. There are prayers to be said when someone passes on, gatherings that have become culturally accepted by most, and a few practices that are considered tradition. But how one honors the dead once all of that is over is left to each person or family to decide.
In Amelia’s family, the tradition regarding death was set down generations ago. The body was prepared as soon as possible and a ceremony held for those outside the family to pay their respects and offer condolences to family members left behind. The following day, the family took the deceased a half day’s ride from Masarra to a specific site on the beach south of the city. There, the body was burned in silence, with each person giving their thoughts and prayers to the one who had moved on to the Eternal Dream. When the fire died out, the family took a meal together, gathered the cooled ashes, scattered them into the Inner Sea, and rode home.
For the following six days, the family laughed and smiled together under a single roof as they recalled their fondest memories of the one they had lost. They held each other and encouraged tears, happy and sad, to get them through the worst of the heartache. It was a celebration of life, for there was always time to mourn when all had dispersed back to their own homes. All grieved for the loss they shared, but by the end of their week together, what few tears remained were never of the gut wrenching pain that always followed the death of someone so close to you.
And then they parted, never speaking the name of the fallen again, willing them with their silent protest to rest easy in the Eternal Dream.
--
As Autumn descended on the Nexus, Amelia’s thoughts inevitably strayed back to three Autumns' past. To a desperate race to save a small girl that ended with the death of one of the few men she respected enough to heed in even her most stubborn moods. To that grumpy old man whose death changed the boy who strayed by her shop daily to the man she came to love. And, inevitably, to the whole world full of people she had left behind.
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared through the coloring leaves of her yew tree and she thought of all those she missed more than it felt her heart could handle sometimes. Her family, her friends, and the love that could never be. All lost to her now. All locked safely away from the Nexus and shrouded in shadows from the multiverse by the Prince she’d pledged herself to.
Was it really worth it? Was it really safer for her to have done this? In moments of weakness like this, she couldn’t be sure. Maybe all those crises that happened in the Nexus wouldn’t have bled over to her tiny, unprepared world. Maybe she could’ve kept anything from crossing the threshold to it. Maybe a slow introduction would’ve made it easy enough to swallow the strange things she brought back with her. Maybe…
Maybe...
Her chest constricted and she took in a painful breath as she broke her family’s generations-long tradition long tradition and brought each of their names to the forefront of her mind. Hey family. Her friends. Her love.
Cecelia. Marco. Ciro. Eduardo. Madelaine.
Dravos. Trogar. Ky. Frederick.
...Nathan.
Speaking their names again, even if only in her mind, brought the pain crashing down on her in a way that took the breath from her lungs. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and drew her knees to her chest, curling in on herself to keep from being heard as she sobbed in the branches of the yew tree outside her window at the inn.
It hurt. It hurt, and nothing could stop that. Nothing could make it better. Nothing could make her forget and nothing could honor those she’d lost in a way that made sense. Her world had no traditions. What could she possibly do? What could she possibly come up with that would do them justice? If she had done what she’d set out to before she ended up here properly, none of them would be dead. They would all be thriving and alive. And even if they were, dreams forbid, gone, there would be nothing to burn if she returned home. Their bodies would have been cremated already and she would be left with nothing. All she would have was their names--
She looked up suddenly, her eyes unfocused as she gazed through the leaves toward the window of her room. Their names. Yes. She had their names. Not even death or the Eternal Dream could take those from her.
Gaze still unfocused, Amelia pushed herself through the branches and into her room. Books and papers went flying as she searched for a clean sheet of paper and a pen. Tearing the paper into small pieces, she scribbled on each of them as quickly as she could, her usually neat script faltering as she rushed to get everything down. Once every scrap had been written on, she stacked them and tucked them up her sleeve before climbing back out the window and then up to the roof.
It was a quiet night, broken only by the gentle breeze blowing across the rooftop and softly through the grasses and leaves on the trees in the courtyard. Closing her eyes, Amelia followed the breeze in the direction it blew, stopping at the edge of the roof. Beyond the property’s edge stood a small wooded area and, beyond that, a large pond. Yes, that would do perfectly. More scrambling followed as the rogue scaled down the building and ran through the trees to the water’s edge. The wind seemed to carry her there, whispering about the rightness of her actions as her boots sank into the sand of the small beach.
Stepping to the water’s edge, she drew the pieces of paper from her sleeve and looked up at the moon. It wasn’t the sun she was used to doing something like this under, but it was fitting that she did this under the cover of night. She wasn’t at her family’s side now and her place had always been in the dark. A small, rueful smile tugged at her lips for a brief moment before fading as she separated the first scrap of paper from the others. She held it high in the moonlight, closed her hand tightly around the paper as she closed eyes and offered a small prayer, and then opened both her eyes and her hand again.
“Madelaine.”
As she whispered her mother’s name, she used her magic to ignite the paper and reduce it to ashes. Her lips formed a silent prayer for the woman’s well being as she scattered the ashes into the water.
And then she drew a breath, and she did it all again.
“Frederick.”
Each piece of paper carried the name of the most precious people she'd lost when she came to the Nexus. Each carried with it a prayer and a desire for them to be well, wherever they were, and a desire for them to know that she still honors them.
When the last paper had been burned, its ashes scattered to the breeze across the surface of the water, she drew a deep breath. The weight of their loss still weighed heavily on her heart, but it suddenly didn’t feel so repressive. She was gone from their lives, but they weren’t gone. Far from her sight as they might be, they were still there. Amelia had done everything within her power to provide for those still alive so they would live on. They had to, because she was going to live on, too.
She didn’t wipe away her tears as she turned from the pond and walked silently through the trees back to the inn. The tear tracts on her cheeks were proof that she loved these people, that they mattered to her, that they had once existed. They were scars of a different kind, temporary, but just as powerful as those that forever covered the rest of her body.
She spent the next six days locked away from the Nexus, writing out all the wonderful memories she had with the owners of the names she had burned from the moment she woke until she fell asleep at her desk. She let herself dream again, feeling more at peace when she woke the next morning after having seen all of their faces. In her own way, she honored those she loved by speaking of them again and writing their stories, so that she might never forget what they’d done together. It didn’t take away the pain that hung over her heart, but it made it feel more of a gift than a burden.
The morning of the seventh day came with the chill of the first Autumn frost. The leaves of the yew tree had all fallen, allowing the rogue a view of the bright, sunny blue sky. Amelia leaned against the window frame and smiled softly, her arms crossed loosely in front of her chest.
It was time to go out and live again. It was time to honor those lost by finding and being herself once more.
“Hello, Nexus,” she murmured. “Let’s really get acquainted, shall we?”
In Amelia’s family, the tradition regarding death was set down generations ago. The body was prepared as soon as possible and a ceremony held for those outside the family to pay their respects and offer condolences to family members left behind. The following day, the family took the deceased a half day’s ride from Masarra to a specific site on the beach south of the city. There, the body was burned in silence, with each person giving their thoughts and prayers to the one who had moved on to the Eternal Dream. When the fire died out, the family took a meal together, gathered the cooled ashes, scattered them into the Inner Sea, and rode home.
For the following six days, the family laughed and smiled together under a single roof as they recalled their fondest memories of the one they had lost. They held each other and encouraged tears, happy and sad, to get them through the worst of the heartache. It was a celebration of life, for there was always time to mourn when all had dispersed back to their own homes. All grieved for the loss they shared, but by the end of their week together, what few tears remained were never of the gut wrenching pain that always followed the death of someone so close to you.
And then they parted, never speaking the name of the fallen again, willing them with their silent protest to rest easy in the Eternal Dream.
--
As Autumn descended on the Nexus, Amelia’s thoughts inevitably strayed back to three Autumns' past. To a desperate race to save a small girl that ended with the death of one of the few men she respected enough to heed in even her most stubborn moods. To that grumpy old man whose death changed the boy who strayed by her shop daily to the man she came to love. And, inevitably, to the whole world full of people she had left behind.
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stared through the coloring leaves of her yew tree and she thought of all those she missed more than it felt her heart could handle sometimes. Her family, her friends, and the love that could never be. All lost to her now. All locked safely away from the Nexus and shrouded in shadows from the multiverse by the Prince she’d pledged herself to.
Was it really worth it? Was it really safer for her to have done this? In moments of weakness like this, she couldn’t be sure. Maybe all those crises that happened in the Nexus wouldn’t have bled over to her tiny, unprepared world. Maybe she could’ve kept anything from crossing the threshold to it. Maybe a slow introduction would’ve made it easy enough to swallow the strange things she brought back with her. Maybe…
Maybe...
Her chest constricted and she took in a painful breath as she broke her family’s generations-long tradition long tradition and brought each of their names to the forefront of her mind. Hey family. Her friends. Her love.
Cecelia. Marco. Ciro. Eduardo. Madelaine.
Dravos. Trogar. Ky. Frederick.
...Nathan.
Speaking their names again, even if only in her mind, brought the pain crashing down on her in a way that took the breath from her lungs. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and drew her knees to her chest, curling in on herself to keep from being heard as she sobbed in the branches of the yew tree outside her window at the inn.
It hurt. It hurt, and nothing could stop that. Nothing could make it better. Nothing could make her forget and nothing could honor those she’d lost in a way that made sense. Her world had no traditions. What could she possibly do? What could she possibly come up with that would do them justice? If she had done what she’d set out to before she ended up here properly, none of them would be dead. They would all be thriving and alive. And even if they were, dreams forbid, gone, there would be nothing to burn if she returned home. Their bodies would have been cremated already and she would be left with nothing. All she would have was their names--
She looked up suddenly, her eyes unfocused as she gazed through the leaves toward the window of her room. Their names. Yes. She had their names. Not even death or the Eternal Dream could take those from her.
Gaze still unfocused, Amelia pushed herself through the branches and into her room. Books and papers went flying as she searched for a clean sheet of paper and a pen. Tearing the paper into small pieces, she scribbled on each of them as quickly as she could, her usually neat script faltering as she rushed to get everything down. Once every scrap had been written on, she stacked them and tucked them up her sleeve before climbing back out the window and then up to the roof.
It was a quiet night, broken only by the gentle breeze blowing across the rooftop and softly through the grasses and leaves on the trees in the courtyard. Closing her eyes, Amelia followed the breeze in the direction it blew, stopping at the edge of the roof. Beyond the property’s edge stood a small wooded area and, beyond that, a large pond. Yes, that would do perfectly. More scrambling followed as the rogue scaled down the building and ran through the trees to the water’s edge. The wind seemed to carry her there, whispering about the rightness of her actions as her boots sank into the sand of the small beach.
Stepping to the water’s edge, she drew the pieces of paper from her sleeve and looked up at the moon. It wasn’t the sun she was used to doing something like this under, but it was fitting that she did this under the cover of night. She wasn’t at her family’s side now and her place had always been in the dark. A small, rueful smile tugged at her lips for a brief moment before fading as she separated the first scrap of paper from the others. She held it high in the moonlight, closed her hand tightly around the paper as she closed eyes and offered a small prayer, and then opened both her eyes and her hand again.
“Madelaine.”
As she whispered her mother’s name, she used her magic to ignite the paper and reduce it to ashes. Her lips formed a silent prayer for the woman’s well being as she scattered the ashes into the water.
And then she drew a breath, and she did it all again.
“Frederick.”
Each piece of paper carried the name of the most precious people she'd lost when she came to the Nexus. Each carried with it a prayer and a desire for them to be well, wherever they were, and a desire for them to know that she still honors them.
When the last paper had been burned, its ashes scattered to the breeze across the surface of the water, she drew a deep breath. The weight of their loss still weighed heavily on her heart, but it suddenly didn’t feel so repressive. She was gone from their lives, but they weren’t gone. Far from her sight as they might be, they were still there. Amelia had done everything within her power to provide for those still alive so they would live on. They had to, because she was going to live on, too.
She didn’t wipe away her tears as she turned from the pond and walked silently through the trees back to the inn. The tear tracts on her cheeks were proof that she loved these people, that they mattered to her, that they had once existed. They were scars of a different kind, temporary, but just as powerful as those that forever covered the rest of her body.
She spent the next six days locked away from the Nexus, writing out all the wonderful memories she had with the owners of the names she had burned from the moment she woke until she fell asleep at her desk. She let herself dream again, feeling more at peace when she woke the next morning after having seen all of their faces. In her own way, she honored those she loved by speaking of them again and writing their stories, so that she might never forget what they’d done together. It didn’t take away the pain that hung over her heart, but it made it feel more of a gift than a burden.
The morning of the seventh day came with the chill of the first Autumn frost. The leaves of the yew tree had all fallen, allowing the rogue a view of the bright, sunny blue sky. Amelia leaned against the window frame and smiled softly, her arms crossed loosely in front of her chest.
It was time to go out and live again. It was time to honor those lost by finding and being herself once more.
“Hello, Nexus,” she murmured. “Let’s really get acquainted, shall we?”