Caregivers 3

In the peace of the pool, Damocles’s prideful memory parts to make way to a day he did not think he would have to revisit. A memory so old he’d allowed himself to accept it’s passing to time. Drawing a breath, he sighed, and allowed the water to draw the memory out and reveal it once more.
It’s like the gods themselves mourned that day. Gray clouds toiled overhead as rain fell across the open valley and its forests. A sorrowful hymn played in the air as a casket was lowered into the open earth. Wreaths, bouquets and gifts covered the smooth mahogany as friends, neighbors, and family honored the deceased one after another. Ichramus stood at the foot of the open grave with a grim look in his eye, an honorary quilt and wrath in his hands. His father lived a long life as jarl, but even the mightiest leaders lay their arms in the end. Damocles stood by his friend, dressed in ceremonial garb that darkened under the pattering rain. Water drops clung to his lashes as he stood unbothered by nature’s chill. His place was by his friend as he grieved the loss of his father, and Damocles his role model. The jarl was an inspiration to all; his people, his son, and his guild. Always steadfast and just, with a firm hand to mentor the youth to a rightful life. Damocles admired him for all he did. For the place he’d given for an ambitious young Vayron to earn his place by his son’s side as a companion, a lifelong friend.
The village would recover from this loss in time, and look to a new leader to keep them safe and cared for; Ichramus. And Damocles by his side to protect the future jarl. Though, that’s a topic Ichramus will not want to hear about today, maybe not tomorrow either, but his inheritance demands it.
The quilt and wreath fell into the grave at last, and the men covered the casket with earth till the grave was full. Flowers were planted around the soil, and a tree at the center of the mound. In time it would grow, and the jarl would return to the earth.
As time passed, Ichramus and Damocles spoke no words to each other. People shared their mourning with them as they passed to go home from the rain, placing their hands on the to-be jarl’s shoulder with sorry looks in their eyes. Ichramus could muster the faint smile in gratitude, but his eyes fell heavy on his father’s grave, scarcely rising. Damocles remained by his side, until all the people had gone.
“I will miss him,” Ichramus rasped, the tears in his eyes finally falling over his lashes. “He taught me so much and yet I feel- I feel I don’t know what to do now.” Sniffing, he tried to compose himself, almost like he felt his father would see him falling apart, and it woud shame him to be in such a state.
“It is only natural to feel that way now, while the grief is so fresh.” Damocles leaned his head on his friend’s shoulder for comfort, and the man leaned his head to him. “Allow yourself the grief, and pick yourself up tomorrow. Today, no one will see you.”
It was like a weight taken from Ichramus’ shoulders, and the man finally wept. His hands clung to his friend and he wept. In the rain they were cold and uncomfortable, but Damocles voiced none of it while his friend still needed his time here. He let the rain patter down in silence, listening to the wind in the trees, the water on the leaves. The peace and quiet of the world in that very moment.
“I don’t know if I’m ready, Damocles. I mean, he trained me, taught me, made me ready, but,” Ichramus sighed, sniffling. “To actually be here now, needing to be ready for real this time.”
“I know,” Damocles replied quietly, blinking rain off his lashes as he looked down at the grave. “I am here. You will find your own voice as jarl as you take your first steps in that role. Do not blame yourself for failure before you’ve even begun.”
The pool finally released Damocles from the memory as it faded away from view. Opening his eyes with a few blinks, Damocles drew a steady breath as he found his footing at the bottom. Water dribbled off his fur as he stood, eyes feeling heavy from all the floating. Watching the ripples in the water so peacefully in the echoing chamber, really invoked emotions from anyone. Soothing the strain and chaos of the clans prior, especially that of the Order. Raising his head, Damocles looked around at the mysterious caregivers and their verdict of his journey down memory lane.