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( closed ) don't listen to all you've been told
WHO: Wei Wuxian & Lily Evans
WHEN: Tombs during the laying to rest of souls
WHERE: Stairs of Sighs
WHAT: They collect information and items and bones in order to help lay the former caravan members to rest.
WARNINGS: Death; implied child death. Murder. Approved by the dead grave robbing.
This wasn't easy work. Wei Wuxian kept a certain grim fortitude going, smiling as was appropriate, which was very little right now. Soul after soul, scattered bones and goods, names and relations and the lamentations of those who came to realise, slowly, they were not simply dead in recent time. There has been time enough that generations may have passed; that they had loved ones who lost and never knew what happened to them, never knew how to mourn, never had their souls to send onward, ever onward.
It does not make this an easy business. Not as the souls of the undead hug their children close, and they're left with toys gone dark and brown and dusty with blood shed decades ago, one more gift for the pyre.
"Take a moment to breathe," he says to Lily, offering her his water satchel. "It's never easy, dealing with the pain of so many innocents that couldn't be saved."
WHEN: Tombs during the laying to rest of souls
WHERE: Stairs of Sighs
WHAT: They collect information and items and bones in order to help lay the former caravan members to rest.
WARNINGS: Death; implied child death. Murder. Approved by the dead grave robbing.
This wasn't easy work. Wei Wuxian kept a certain grim fortitude going, smiling as was appropriate, which was very little right now. Soul after soul, scattered bones and goods, names and relations and the lamentations of those who came to realise, slowly, they were not simply dead in recent time. There has been time enough that generations may have passed; that they had loved ones who lost and never knew what happened to them, never knew how to mourn, never had their souls to send onward, ever onward.
It does not make this an easy business. Not as the souls of the undead hug their children close, and they're left with toys gone dark and brown and dusty with blood shed decades ago, one more gift for the pyre.
"Take a moment to breathe," he says to Lily, offering her his water satchel. "It's never easy, dealing with the pain of so many innocents that couldn't be saved."
no subject
"I'm going to conjure us the nicest pot of tea I can." She had been practicing, and hopefully, the necessity of a decent cup would help her manifest one that was more than suitable.
"Are you ready to go back?" Lily offered her hand, willing to apparate them back to the caravan so they could get these little coffins out of her purse and actually enjoy their tea away from the lingering chill of death that hung in the air here.
no subject
"At this point, that's the only way to go." A nod of his head to the shadows that hold few voices now, the unsettled, dead hearts here now quieted, while his and Lily's are now full. Overfull, spilling past the cup of their chests, and down their nervous systems, to their heavy feet.
Or he was tired, and his mind caught up in extended metaphors. The hike back out to the caravan and its restless, living members, is a smaller, less vivacious sight. Funny, when over two hundred of it had been ghostly before recent events.
But tea, and rest, and onward to Taravast: these are all part of what their day should continue to be, and then onward, to what life brings next, and to where they can lay these bones to rest.