Haugstad, Kingdom of Divinium, Eastern region of Rohana Federation, 161st - 2042 S.C., 122nd day
The rosids were still blooming the morning they buried Adel. The season of Nadia had arrived in full force. The air was thick with heat, and the tall trees at the cemetery's edge provided what little shade they could. Some of the petals flew by the mourners that have filed in silence.
The grave has been dug at the cemetery's very edge, and the tall trees from the forest provided much-needed shade during the rising temperature.
"Adel sure has chosen his time to join the Creators, huh?" one of the villagers spoke.
Adel's body lay wrapped in a simple cloth, placed on a wooden bier. Someone had tucked rosids into the folds of the wrapping. The effect might have been beautiful, if not for what lay beneath.
Above the grave, Malcolm stood sentinel as the last farewells were to take place. After decorations from the villagers were completed around the hole, Adel's body was lowered into the ground.
"Our fearless leader of many years has decided to join the creators. His spirit went to the plains of creation, and the vessel, we return to the mother from which it came. From the dust we were created, and to the dust we return."
Malcolm closed out the ceremony, and the villagers started to disband. As the mourners dispersed, walking back toward the village, fragments of conversation drifted through the warm air.
"One hundred and twenty star-cycles. My grandfather said Adel was one of the strongest warriors Haugstad ever produced."
"I mean, my grandfather said he was one of the most vital warriors in the village back in the day."
"I mean, to survive all the monster encounters and live such a long life is a feat in itself."
"His mind held until the end, too. Well, mostly. That last year was difficult."
As some of them remiss, they were passing next to Martina and Agnus, who walked with Heron, their hands clasped around his. He was six star-cycles old now, old enough to understand that Grampa Adel wouldn't be coming back. But he was yet to process that finality.
Heron grew quite close to Adel. The retired chief used his free time to watch over the children in the village, but he especially looked over Heron, having the boy over regularly at his home.
Adel never married; it was a mystery in the village how that came to be. By the time he got elected as village chief, he just waved it off as having enough priorities that marriage would have to wait. And it just never came.
But even if he had no blood-related family, he always thought of everyone in the village as part of his family. Though he isn't there to see it, he was not wrong. Everyone in the village came for the final send-off.
Yet, one person, though not from the village, was not present. Haran was nowhere to be seen, but it is understandable due to his work with the church. Malcolm did inform him by sending the letter.
And so after a few days, as the light of the crosses cast its rays on the cemetery, a figure stood above his grave. One glass of mead on the tombstone, the other one in his hand.
"Sorry, I wasn't here for the big event, old man, but Malcolm told me it was a sight to behold. Also, sorry for not being around more. But I tried my best during the past four years. It is just that there are so many quests, and they take so much time. Hope you know I did the best I could to come around and see my son grow. And thank you for being such a good caretaker. Even when my life was in peril, when I thought my life would be claimed, at no point was I regretting leaving my son in your hands."
He raised his glass. "Here is to you. May your spirit find a new life in the plains of creation!"
He then spilled the mead into the ground.
As he was leaving the cemetery, there was a figure waiting near the gate. It was Agnus. He didn't say anything as Haran approached.
"Agnus," Haran said as he stopped leaving some distance between the men. "I wasn't expecting you to come out here."
"Yes, well, the guard informed me, he spotted you leaving your motorcycle outside the village, so I gathered you'd show up here. Would you mind if we took a walk?" as Agnus gestured towards the path that led away from the village.
They moved in silence for a time, following the worn trail that separated the wheat fields and the forest. Beneath the canopies of the trees, the air was cool, and the path was illuminated only by rays that made it through the thickness of the leaves.
"It's been around five star-cycles," Adel finally said. "Five star-cycles since Adel brought Heron to our door, asking us to take him in. Told us that the boy's father was a good man caught in circumstances beyond his control. Pleaded with us to trust him."
"And you did," Haran said quietly.
"We did. Because it was Adel asking. Because his word had more weight than any amount of coins." Agnus's voice remained even. "You are aware that Martina and I couldn't have children of our own. We tried, but the Creators saw fit to deny us that blessing. So when Adle came to us with Heron… it felt that Creators at least gave us an answer to the prayers we long said."
Haran's throat tightened. "He's fortunate to have you both."
"Maybe. But he's also fortunate to have a father who sends supplies, who hires adventurers to keep the demons at bay, who visits when he can."
Agnus stopped walking and turned to face Haran directly. "The question is, what happens now? Adel was the bridge between you and this village. He was the one who convinced the council to accept this arrangement. He was the one who kept track of when you'd visit, who made sure Heron was occupied when you came. Now he's gone."
"I know," Haran said, his voice rough. "What is it that you want me to say, Agnus?"
"I would like you to tell me what the plan is going forward. You knew of Adel's condition. He was struggling with his health for a while. You must have known this day would come."
"I knew, but it always escaped my mind. No, that would be a lie. I just kept saying to myself, there will be a time when I'll address it all. But so many things are happening, Agnus. To you, this village and its outskirts are all you know. But there is a whole world out there and tides keep turning."
"Haran, I do not care about the world outside. My world may be small, but that boy has become a large part of it. What I want to know is, do you intend to keep hiding the truth from him?"
"He deserves better than what I can give him," Haran said, his voice barely above a whisper. "A father who can't be present, who carries dangers that could—"
"He deserves the truth," Agnus said. Then shifted his tone to be much colder. "It's either that, or you walk away. Forget about him, forget about the village."
Haran looked back toward the cemetery, where Adel's grave lay beneath its covering of rosids. "A long time ago, I spoke with Adel about how we should tell the truth to the boy. He was insistent that it was the right thing to do. Then, as things progressed in my life, I realized how much danger my work brings, and I kept pushing it away. But you are right, I need to make a decision. Can you give me a few days? There is the next shipment I'll bring, and then you will have my answer."
Agnus studied him for a long moment, then gave a single nod. "A few days, then. But Haran, don't make me regret giving you the time."