Selfless Love

Rest Well, Old Friend

The Calypse family quietly joined the gathering in the church. Knights and townsfolk alike filed down the aisle in silence as the organist played a somber melody.

Riftan and Maxi helped the children light a candle, scattered among the hundreds spread out across the altar. Their youngest child was in his nursery and was under Rudis' care. A funeral was no place for a newborn, but Victoria and Andrew, though they were young, were old enough to attend and should pay their respects.

The cleric spoke of Melric's various deeds and accomplishments throughout his life. Maxi had considered him a friend and knowledgeable mentor, and yet there were things about his early life that she was hearing about for the first time. Granted, the mage had been rather private and mostly discussed his work. The clergy standing behind the pulpit spent most of their time talking about how Melric had helped the community, highlighting examples of various people the mage had impacted during his time in Anatol.

The children sat quietly throughout the duration of the service. They understood, to a degree, the finality of death, though they still did not understand how it worked or its timing.
As the service concluded, those who were gathered sang a few hymns, mostly about the beauty of the world The Creator had made, as Melric had been so fond of nature.

They processed out of the church and followed the wagon to the port to have his body sent back to his home country to be buried with his family.

Those who were gathered at the dock made their way back to the reception hall in the church. They hosted a small lunch where people shared stories of Melric's kind heart and selfless nature.

Andrew and Victoria stayed close to their mother while they enjoyed the warm cakes and fresh fruit offered for those who had come to celebrate the life and memory of a kind man.

"Why do people die?" Andrew asked suddenly, genuinely curious, as he wanted to better understand the seriousness of the service.

Maxi was silent for a moment, debating the best way to explain this delicate topic to her young child in a way that would help him better understand the situation without scaring him.

"He had lived a long, peaceful life." Maxi said. "In his last days, he mostly slept and read books or made little crafts but was confined to his small home because he didn't have the energy to go out around town like he used to. He was comfortable but wasn't living up to the same quality of life that he had before."

Victoria, who had been listening intently, suddenly stiffened and clutched her mother's arm tightly. She looked up at Maxi as tears threatened to fall from her eyes.

"Is Ruth going to die?!" the young Calypse wailed in despair.

Maxi pursed her lips to keep a small laugh from escaping her throat, though she heard a few knights behind her chuckle at the child's outburst.

"No, Victoria, Ruth is just fine." Maxi said calmly yet firmly. "He acts that way by choice, not necessity, though he might argue otherwise."

"He hardly ever leaves the library," Andrew argued. "He's always tired and says he feels sickly."

"No, dear," Maxi said sweetly. "You misunderstood. Ruth says he is exhausted because he is tired of being around the knights all the time, whom he finds brash and brutish. He says he is sick because he's usually being dramatic when Sir Hebaron gets on his last nerve."

Andrew huffed in disbelief.

"Just because you believe that the Remdragon Knights are the best thing that ever was," says Maxi, "doesn't mean everyone else does or has to think that way."

Victoria tugged on the skirt of Maxi's dress, silently asking her mother to come down to her level. Maxi smiled warmly and handed her small plate to the nearest maidservant before kneeling in front of her daughter. Victoria stretched out her little arms and hugged her mother as tight as she could. She grabbed handfuls of the fabric of her mother's dress in her fists and leaned in close as she buried her face in the crook of her mother's neck. Andrew reached out and gently patted his sister's back, having sensed her distress.

"Are you and Father going to live forever?" the young girl asked worriedly, on the verge of tears.

Maxi thought for another long while. She needed to be honest with her daughter, but she also did not want to break her heart or dwell on such things for too long. Maxi embraced her daughter and pulled her son into the hug as well.

"No," Maxi said gently as she held her children in her arms, "but if we do our best to take care of ourselves and each other, then we should all be around for a very long time."

The children hugged her back tightly, and Maxi held them close. She savored this moment in their embrace. It wouldn't last forever; nothing would, but it was small moments like these—holding her children close and seeing them grow—that filled her heart with unshaken peace and unbreakable joy.

"I won't always be here," she said quietly, "but never doubt that my love for you both will always be with you."

The distant ring of the church bells beyond the reception hall echoed through the room as though applauding her vow. The children held her a bit tighter as they found comfort in knowing that even if their mother and father wouldn't always be here physically, they would be in their hearts, loving them from afar until they meet again.