It was a warm evening, the golden sun cresting the wooded hills far away, the last of its crown sinking. It was a welcome sight to Hamernicus, it meant that the harsh heart of the summer's day would turn to a cooler, less bitter 'eve. He wound his way up a gentle slope, along the path of heavily worn cobblestone that marked the way to the Cemetary, for mourners and more permanent guests alike.
It took Him months to reach the fields of Elindor, travel is so slow between continents. The news of his Father's death travelled even slower. Perhaps years. He didn't really know.
The wrought iron gates of the Cemetary were wide open, and from the look of it, had been that way for some time. One nearly toppled over from the rust eating away at the hinges, and the other in nearly as bad of shape.
He ventured past the gates and on into the Cemetary, he was greeted with the signs of death - quite literally. Stones bearing the names and dates of birth and death lined unused pathways long grown over with bush and weeds. All the death that was planted intot he earth around him did nothing to affect him, in fact, he marveled at the life that lingered even amongst the deathly state of the grounds. Birds perched in the twisted and dead limbs of trees. WIld hounds kept their distance, but cuatiously watched Hamernicus as he prowled much like they did. Only he wasn't looking for a simple shred of prey to devour. He was looking for his Father.
The search led him to the fresher stretched of the cemetary, the unfortunate new additions to the grim place. He could tell they were new, the graven names weren't as worn and the stone wasn't as cracked and damaged by time and desecrators. Children no doubt. Or maybe hopeful grave robbers that never actually got to the task of digging up the graves. Either way, some were split, others chipped, some even shattered and spread out on the ground.
As he looked at each of the newer stones, one caught his eye. Engraved upon it was the unnoficialy family crest of the Dious family. A half-moon turned over a sappling. An Oak. SImple, but it worked for the Dious kith. The Dious fmaily were mostly made up of nature worshippers, some were Prists, as Hamernicus, others Mages and Scolars. Some as lowly as Farmers, but they were respected amongst the family as well.
Tirburnicus Dious was the name he was looking for...and there it was, brandished in stone. The grave wasn't very fresh, but it was atleast a couple of years old. That's how late Hamernicus was to finding out of his Father's demise.
No trees. Not a single tree was to be found around the grave. His Father would have hated that. He was a lover of trees. All well.
Hamernicus reached under the folds of his Ceremonial Robes, retreiving from it a draw-string pouch, and from that, he plucked a small seed. He stared at the seed for a few moments, resting it in the palm of his outstretched hand, then to the grave of his Father.
A sudden sence of remorse and loss overcame Hamernicus, as he spoke a simple enchantment...
"Ohf Min gyrn, ætfeallan Min hearte. Fram Min eage, ætfeallan Mine slitan. Mid Ge scriðan þas cwide ohf torn faran mid Ge, be oð seo æfter feorh."
Hermanicus then sat the seed on top of the stone, closing his eyes in concetration. A few moments went by, and the seed began to grow. Faster. Very fast. Roots began to spill from under his cupped hand and cascade down the front and back of the gravestone, reaching like skeletal fingers to the ground. A sproutling erupted from between his fingers, and it grew tall and strong, a lush green, a breath of life in a place of death. After a few moments it stopped growing, and a sprout crowned the top of the stem, and bloomed into a bright red rose.
With an exhalting sigh, Hamernicus let go of the Rose born of mourning, and stood before the headstone.
"Today, after all of this time...my sorrow leaves with you. You will not be grieved for any longer. You will not know the tinge of pain in your travels beyond. you shall now only see the thoughts of joy I am left with. Goodbye, Father," Hamernicus spoke, in his proud and wise voice.
It took Him months to reach the fields of Elindor, travel is so slow between continents. The news of his Father's death travelled even slower. Perhaps years. He didn't really know.
The wrought iron gates of the Cemetary were wide open, and from the look of it, had been that way for some time. One nearly toppled over from the rust eating away at the hinges, and the other in nearly as bad of shape.
He ventured past the gates and on into the Cemetary, he was greeted with the signs of death - quite literally. Stones bearing the names and dates of birth and death lined unused pathways long grown over with bush and weeds. All the death that was planted intot he earth around him did nothing to affect him, in fact, he marveled at the life that lingered even amongst the deathly state of the grounds. Birds perched in the twisted and dead limbs of trees. WIld hounds kept their distance, but cuatiously watched Hamernicus as he prowled much like they did. Only he wasn't looking for a simple shred of prey to devour. He was looking for his Father.
The search led him to the fresher stretched of the cemetary, the unfortunate new additions to the grim place. He could tell they were new, the graven names weren't as worn and the stone wasn't as cracked and damaged by time and desecrators. Children no doubt. Or maybe hopeful grave robbers that never actually got to the task of digging up the graves. Either way, some were split, others chipped, some even shattered and spread out on the ground.
As he looked at each of the newer stones, one caught his eye. Engraved upon it was the unnoficialy family crest of the Dious family. A half-moon turned over a sappling. An Oak. SImple, but it worked for the Dious kith. The Dious fmaily were mostly made up of nature worshippers, some were Prists, as Hamernicus, others Mages and Scolars. Some as lowly as Farmers, but they were respected amongst the family as well.
Tirburnicus Dious was the name he was looking for...and there it was, brandished in stone. The grave wasn't very fresh, but it was atleast a couple of years old. That's how late Hamernicus was to finding out of his Father's demise.
No trees. Not a single tree was to be found around the grave. His Father would have hated that. He was a lover of trees. All well.
Hamernicus reached under the folds of his Ceremonial Robes, retreiving from it a draw-string pouch, and from that, he plucked a small seed. He stared at the seed for a few moments, resting it in the palm of his outstretched hand, then to the grave of his Father.
A sudden sence of remorse and loss overcame Hamernicus, as he spoke a simple enchantment...
"Ohf Min gyrn, ætfeallan Min hearte. Fram Min eage, ætfeallan Mine slitan. Mid Ge scriðan þas cwide ohf torn faran mid Ge, be oð seo æfter feorh."
Hermanicus then sat the seed on top of the stone, closing his eyes in concetration. A few moments went by, and the seed began to grow. Faster. Very fast. Roots began to spill from under his cupped hand and cascade down the front and back of the gravestone, reaching like skeletal fingers to the ground. A sproutling erupted from between his fingers, and it grew tall and strong, a lush green, a breath of life in a place of death. After a few moments it stopped growing, and a sprout crowned the top of the stem, and bloomed into a bright red rose.
With an exhalting sigh, Hamernicus let go of the Rose born of mourning, and stood before the headstone.
"Today, after all of this time...my sorrow leaves with you. You will not be grieved for any longer. You will not know the tinge of pain in your travels beyond. you shall now only see the thoughts of joy I am left with. Goodbye, Father," Hamernicus spoke, in his proud and wise voice.
