The caretaker was oddly sunny for a man who spent his days looking after a cemetery. It was honestly a little creepy, but I was not going to be able to find my way without his help and he was more than happy to show me along. As we walked down the carefully paved paths, he commented on the bouquet I had in hand.
“I do not believe I’ve seen a visitor for her in quite some time. But this time of year does prompt more visits than any other. Was she your mother? Grandmother?” He questioned, all innocent curiosity.
“Mother-in-law, actually.”
He nodded and proceeded to chatter on about other things. Something about landscaping and flower arrangements. I wasn’t really listening, I was counting the rows we passed so I could find the site on my own another time. Eventually we veered to the left and walked just a few more feet.
“Here we are,” the chipper caretaker sank into a little bow and finally bounced off to leave me be.
I stayed on the path a while longer. To the left was Andeevan Elom’siesh: A radiant life eclipsed too soon. To the right lay Ronae Flamewarden: A Daughter, a Sister, a Wife, and a Warrior to the End. The middle stone simply read Orlaith Sen’thial Duskflame with a pair of dates below. I suppose her daughters really did not have the luxury to request a fitting epitaph.
I took a few steps forward and crouched down so that Orlaith Sen’thial Duskflame was just below my eye level. In silence I fidgeted with the flowers I had picked from the garden at home until finally setting them down at the base of the headstone.
“Suppose I’ll start then,” I said quietly. I wasn’t keen on any passersby seeing me talking…basically to myself. “I’m Westel Firewing. I know I don’t look like much, and I am sure I am certainly not who you imagined your daughter marrying.” I paused, as if I was actually giving this woman some time to consider me, or to respond.
I’m not insane. Or at least not entirely. Ever since Tyren died I’ve had this habit of talking to dead people. It’s not like I see them–now that I am sober. I don’t even really believe that they are floating above in some afterlife, listening to me. I suppose it is just nice to be able to say the things I was never able to when they were alive.
“I just want you to know that I love her very much. You and your husband raised a brilliant young women– two brilliant young women, really. I promise to take good care of Astoreth, and your granddaughter too.” I sat down and drew my knees up to my chest. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for Cearalaith as well. So, you’re welcome.”
In past relationships, I usually only met the parents when one or both happened to walk in on me and their daughter tangled up on the bed. So you can easily say I never made the best first impressions. And, as with Astoreth, any in-laws I might have had were long dead. So I have never really done the ‘meet the parents’ routine. Shaking the father’s hand and charming the mother. Not that I would have been very good at it, given the chance.
However, as I think about it now, I would give anything to meet Astoreth’s family. Her father, mostly, as she speaks of him with such adoration. But even her silly mother and all her supposedly horrible brothers. Less for my sake and more for Astoreth’s, of course.
I examined the elegant stone, happy to note that it was well taken care of. The small cemetery outside the Farstrider’s Retreat is not so carefully looked after. “I’m sorry Astoreth isn’t here with me…Actually, she doesn’t even know I’ve come here to visit. One day, perhaps, I will convince her to come see you. But it’s a delicate thing, you understand.” I twisted the signet on my finger, thinking. “She loved you…and still does. Though I am certain you know that.”
I checked my pocketwatch, noting the hour. I’d be meeting Astoreth for another sort of visitation soon.
“I need to head out now. I’ll bring you some fresh flowers soon, maybe I’ll see if I can figure out what your favorites are. Might even have a Duskflame girl or two with me.” I stood, looking down at the headstone for a few more beats before moving to find my way out of the cemetery.
wolfriders 