The days had begun to fade into darkness earlier and earlier as the air took on a soft chill from summer’s sweltering heat, a reprieve in one sense but a new challenging season approached. There was a great fire roaring in the graveyard as his family had moved around collecting bones from missing corpse sets and weeds to create an abundance of ash for the oncoming spring. Ever since he had lost his sight to the plights of living and working in the graveyard his father had turned a new leaf in how he views his family’s participation in their home. He still did most of the work himself, a little snippier when it came to his children or his mate working around the more decomposed and vile specimens he kept; his way of trying to protect them. The more Silas grew and aged he could see the soft signs that his mother had bared on her own, the way his father would cough, the blood that would follow violent fits in the dead heat of the summer after a long day of strenuous labor. It was no secret his father would join his macabre garden in time from his servitude and love of this festering soil; but there was a quiet hesitation to speak aloud how soon.
Silas moved carefully through the gravestones which he knew as innately as breathing before he settled under the massive willow in the center of the graveyard. His blurred vision allowed him to see the bonfire’s hungry glow as it bounced off different angles of stone, fuzzy dark figures of his family moved in and out of view at this hour thanks to that light. He wanted to help, but his father ordered him to sit out so he wouldn’t trip or stumble; another frustrating moment where he felt helpless once the sun fled beyond the distant hills. Still, he found himself gazing intently at the fire for it was the only thing he could consistently make out in these darkening evenings of fall.
Fall changed his schedule so he would have less time away from home for fear of getting lost or caught in other undesirable circumstances. He would see Maura less, even if business was slower in the winter months for him her candle work was in full swing. Light in the darkest of nights meant a great deal to many – something he knew intimately. The warmth of the summer and brilliant light that stretched long into the evening allowed him so much freedom to still be able to see with his failing vision; to feel independent and truly an adult like his parents and siblings. Moments like these…laying under the same willow he pranced around under as just a foal within these stone walls made him feel so small once more. The evenings of bonfires meant a great deal to his father, and through his sharp demands Silas understood that everything had to go as planned. It had to be contained as to not spread through the graveyard and burn this tree as the lone piece of permanent foliage he allowed here. Should the fire escape and leave soot all over the headstones it would make weeks and weeks of work for his father.
Yet, the Ash was a great reset for Deathbringer and their family as a whole. After letting the graveyard be as natural as possible for decades his father was using ash amongst the soil to help with pests and disease. Disease which would hopefully spare anyone else from the fate he brought upon himself. Silas did not blame his father for his eyesight, it just was what it was, and the damage had been done. In a way, much how summer was becoming fall they would all slow in time as the summer of their lives faded into beautiful oranges, reds and yellows. A different, vibrant stage where the chill of winter would catch up to them all someday and they would become beautiful and white. Was that why his father took such care of bones? A nod to the death where that wintery white would blanket everything?
A soft chuckle rose from his chest, a warm smile spreading on his lips. What was it about a bonfire that brought out such reflection?
“Are you alright, young master?” Silas had barely heard him approach as Gravedigger had sat down beside him. “I am, Grave…thank you. How is it going? I can only see so much but the flames sure are vibrant.” Silas turned his head back to the flames, staring from his murky eyes. “Its going well. There will be a bounty of Ash for the fall and spring, more than enough to keep the graveyard from festering considering the heatwave we had this year.” “I see. You know…it may be my first summer this year, as maybe I have moved on from spring in my life.” “…Summer?” Gravedigger’s head turned, one ear flopping down as it earned an affectionate laugh from Silas as his inquisitive tone told him the action he probably performed. “Never mind, my dear friend. I am merely reflecting is all. I merely mean I will take this fall and winter as a sign to relax to make the most out of thee upcoming Spring and fall.” “Oh, like your father when the ground freezes that neither hoof nor paw can penetrate?” Grave’s tail wagged lazily, but the small comment made the smile on Silas’ face faulter, before it grinned almost a little proudly.
“Yeah, like my father.”
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