The stories my mother, Sakura Mirei, used to whisper to me before bed are still imprinted in my memory like shadows. Tales of the creation of the universe, of the clash between Ank Solis and Dark Solis in GW1, and the breakup of E263 into five realms in GW2—she told them in a gentle voice, weaving history and folklore into my childhood dreams. As I grew older, I brushed those stories aside, dismissing them as mere fantasies of a simpler time. Yet my love and respect for her never wavered, a beacon that guided me through the years.
We were a family of Barons, or rather, royal executioners of House Valentine—a lineage passed down through generations, a profession shrouded in stigma for centuries. The people of the Kingdom of Solis shunned us, their whispers regarding us as harbingers of death. My father died in battle before I was born, leaving my mother to carry me and take on the role of Royal Executioner. The first Baroness to lead House Valentine, she swung her axe with unwavering determination, her hands stained by the countless heads she had cut off. To the world, she was a fearsome monster to be shunned, but to me, she was a gentle soul, her love for me a quiet force, despite the blood on her blade.
Now, two years have passed since her death, and I stand before her grave—CharlieS. Valentine, the new Royal Executioner and head of House Valentine. Her burden rests heavily on my shoulders, a burden I bear with pride, though the path ahead is still shadowed by the scorn of our people.
I knelt down beside the faded stone, holding a bright red rose in my hand:
"Mom, today I brought you another rose - the brightest rose I could find, just like your favorite ones." - I smiled slightly.
"It wasn't an easy task. I had to venture into the woods behind the hill to pick it myself, because no one sells flowers to a family like ours."
A pang of loneliness pierced my chest as I looked at my mother's name engraved on the stone:
"Life without you is so empty, Mom. I miss you more than words can express." - A flash of sadness crossed my face.
A light breeze blew by, sending a chill down my spine, as if an invisible hand had touched my shoulder. I turned around instinctively, but the cemetery was empty - only the silence of loneliness greeted me. Undaunted, I continued to share my days with my mother, pouring out all the joys and sorrows I had stored in my heart, exposing every smile and every tear before her resting place.
For a fleeting moment, I felt a familiar warmth, like an embrace I had known since childhood. Perhaps it was just my heart seeking comfort, a fleeting illusion to ease the pain.
I gently placed the rose on my mother's grave, pulled out the weeds around it, and wiped away the dirt on the tombstone. I visited my mother at least once a month, as a ritual to keep her memory alive. I pulled a letter from my pocket, the edges of which were frayed from careful handwriting. I lit it, watching the flame carry my words high, silently hoping that my mother would receive them in the afterlife.
Time passed, the sky darkened as dusk fell. I stood up, saying goodbye to my mother for the last time.
"Mom, I'll be back soon, and I'll bring you another beautiful rose."
Though my heart yearned to linger and talk more, the fading light urged me to leave. Sighing heavily, I turned toward the house—when a faint whisper brushed past my ear, as soft as a sigh, carrying a voice I almost recognized.
"Charlie…"
I froze, my breathing quickening. Was it the wind? Or was it my mind playing tricks on me? The cemetery fell silent again, leaving me wondering as I walked into the gathering dusk.