08-19-2018, 05:36 PM
Tears flowed freely from the eyes of the gathered villagers as they listened to the duet of the Rinzus, the moon's light reflecting the moisture's paths off of the faces of the mourners.
They sand and played until the last trowel of dirt was pat solidly onto the earth below. As they finished, the gathered crowd stood in silence, with naught but sobs and sniffles to punctuate the silence. Slowly, one by one, the villagers departed, taking up their lamps once more.
The two Rinzus found their hands clasped firmly together after their performance, though it was unclear who sought the comfort of the other first. The laguz stared at the grave, unable to stop her quiet sobbing as the villagers came to her, offering quiet prayers and outstretched hands of support before departing.
Rou wrapped her arms around the laguz. "I'm so sorry," she whispered through a shaking voice as she, too, returned to the village with her family and with Mia, so as to give the grieving mother respite from her duties to her child. Only Rinzu, Feng, and his grieving wife remained in the clearing. Sura was still close, but had elected to give them some space - he leaned against a tree several paces out, patiently waiting for the others, lamp at his feet.
After a long time, Feng placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. Her own hand covered his. "We should be heading back," he said quietly. Rinzu simply nodded.
As the young man lead his wife and sister out of the grove, Sura lighting the path ahead, Feng's eyes drifted up to the nearby trees. Each of the crimson-leaved trees in this grove had strange, anomalous items grown within the branches and bark. One tree's bark had grown around the base of a beautiful luquin. Another had beads and talismans embedded into the trunk at various junctures. All of them had something, some sort of item that had grown into the tree, almost as if it was naturally-occurring as every leaf and branch.
He slowed for a moment, his hand tightening on his wife's. His other hand moved out and brushed along the beautiful bark of one of the trees. Almost at eye level, the young tree's trunk held within something familiar - a beautiful flute, its red outside dirty and and well-loved as the bark wove around it. One of the holes had expanded to be twice as large, and had grass from a nesting bird still within it.
A second tree, of about the same age by its moderate size, stood close by. Jutting out from the trunk were a series of beautifully-sculpted clay basins, bowls, and urns, half exposed to the elements. Rainwater had collected within several of them, and the feathers and dropping near them indicated that the small receptacles had served as the baths of a great many birds in time both recent and otherwise.
"Hey, sis," he said quietly.
"...If you want to say anything to them, they're listening."
They sand and played until the last trowel of dirt was pat solidly onto the earth below. As they finished, the gathered crowd stood in silence, with naught but sobs and sniffles to punctuate the silence. Slowly, one by one, the villagers departed, taking up their lamps once more.
The two Rinzus found their hands clasped firmly together after their performance, though it was unclear who sought the comfort of the other first. The laguz stared at the grave, unable to stop her quiet sobbing as the villagers came to her, offering quiet prayers and outstretched hands of support before departing.
Rou wrapped her arms around the laguz. "I'm so sorry," she whispered through a shaking voice as she, too, returned to the village with her family and with Mia, so as to give the grieving mother respite from her duties to her child. Only Rinzu, Feng, and his grieving wife remained in the clearing. Sura was still close, but had elected to give them some space - he leaned against a tree several paces out, patiently waiting for the others, lamp at his feet.
After a long time, Feng placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. Her own hand covered his. "We should be heading back," he said quietly. Rinzu simply nodded.
As the young man lead his wife and sister out of the grove, Sura lighting the path ahead, Feng's eyes drifted up to the nearby trees. Each of the crimson-leaved trees in this grove had strange, anomalous items grown within the branches and bark. One tree's bark had grown around the base of a beautiful luquin. Another had beads and talismans embedded into the trunk at various junctures. All of them had something, some sort of item that had grown into the tree, almost as if it was naturally-occurring as every leaf and branch.
He slowed for a moment, his hand tightening on his wife's. His other hand moved out and brushed along the beautiful bark of one of the trees. Almost at eye level, the young tree's trunk held within something familiar - a beautiful flute, its red outside dirty and and well-loved as the bark wove around it. One of the holes had expanded to be twice as large, and had grass from a nesting bird still within it.
A second tree, of about the same age by its moderate size, stood close by. Jutting out from the trunk were a series of beautifully-sculpted clay basins, bowls, and urns, half exposed to the elements. Rainwater had collected within several of them, and the feathers and dropping near them indicated that the small receptacles had served as the baths of a great many birds in time both recent and otherwise.
"Hey, sis," he said quietly.
"...If you want to say anything to them, they're listening."