ACT VI
THE AGE OF UNDEAD
“My father’s birthday?” Hans asked, confused.
“Yes,” Vanessa nodded, “Wear this, she put the formal suit down, continuing, “And come down quickly, Lord and Lady are already waiting.”
She left leaving him stunned. “So dead people also celebrate their birthdays.” Hans taunted, as he wore the suit, a black three-piece with a white shirt. “Now, how the heck do I make this?” He said to himself after tangling the tie with his finger gymnastic, yet it failed to form a decent structure. “Ugh, dang it—”
“What is taking you so long?” Vanessa barged in and found Hans playing with his tie.
“I don’t know how to do the tie, sis.”
“Leave it,” She came close, taking the reins and her fingers moved like magic, forming the perfect tie around his neck. “There you go. Now hurry.” She pulled him by the hand and exited the room. “Is wearing black a custom to visit the Late ones,” Hans thought as he noticed, Vanessa was also wearing a full black dress and confirmed his doubts as he saw Rudolf in the same suit as his, relatively bigger, but the design remained identical. “He even combed his hair, guess he wanted to look a bit decent to Samson… Even grandma is looking more beautiful.” Hans started combing his hair, his finger running through it and setting it up. “I should have put more effort.”
“Where is everyone?” Hans asked hinting Rudolf.
“They are enjoying the festival or market. Some meeting their parents and all…” Rudolf remarked, taunting him, “You are the only one who sleeps through the noon, and even on a good day, such as this.”
“So where exactly are we going?” He asked, ignoring Rudolf’s taunt.
“Sam is in Grimgar Royal cemetery.” Sierra answered, adding, “Now hurry, if you don’t want others to see you.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Hans ran off to her side and they sat on the carriage, set to lead them to the Royal Cemetery. As the wheels began its gentle ascent towards the cemetery, Hans glanced out of the window at the passing landscape. The buzz of the city ended quickly, and the world outside was a tapestry of lush, rolling hills and trees, their branches reaching skyward in silent tribute to the time that had passed.
Sierra, sitting opposite Hans, wore a sombre expression, her eyes reflecting the weight of the occasion. In her lap, she clutched a bouquet of white lilies, a symbol of purity and remembrance. Rudolf, beside her, was a stoic, even his neatly shaven face and perfectly combed hair couldn’t hide his sadness.
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was a mix of emotions—quiet reflection, grief, and a sense of familial unity. “I really shouldn’t speak out of turn, this is intense,” Hans spoke inside and turned to Vanessa. She held a small, handpicked posy of wildflowers, her youthful yet sad eyes matched the gravity of the moment. “Wow, even her. Am I the abnormal here? And they should have told me if they were bringing things. Now I look like an unfilial brat.”
As they approached the cemetery's wrought-iron gates, Hans could see the old trees that lined the entrance, their gnarled branches forming a natural archway. The carriage came to a gentle stop near the entrance, and the family stepped out, their footsteps echoing on the stone path. They made their way into the cemetery, each carrying their chosen symbols of remembrance, except Hans. “I really feel out of place.”
He was feeling a mixture of emotions as they entered the royal cemetery— his senses were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur and solemnity of the place. Before him lay a landscape filled with ornate gravestones and mausoleums, each a work of art in its own right. The gravestones were carved from gleaming marble and adorned with delicate wireworks, depicting the likenesses of long-departed monarchs and nobility. The mausoleums, on the other hand, were grand structures, with towering spires and stained-glass windows that depicted scenes from the history of the Grimgar kingdom. “This is really grand, their budget must be insane”
The air was heavy with memories and history. Flowers and candles adorned the graves, offered a sense of serenity and respect. The silence in the cemetery was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant song of mourning birds. "Oh my god, why is not anyone speaking?"
Hans followed his elders, wandering among the tombstones, his fingers gently tracing the names and dates etched into the stone. As he went further, he came across a large, imposing monument at the centre of the cemetery. It was a towering statue of a regal figure, undoubtedly the first monarch of Grimgar, with a solemn expression and a crown upon his head. Flowers and offerings were placed at the base of the statue, an evidence to the enduring respect of his descendants.
“You must’ve been a big shot, fighting the mage king along with my great ancestors.” Hans bowed with respect and moved to where his elders were. They stood before an unattended grave, left in that state on purpose. “They don’t even have respect for the dead,” Rudolf said, his voice carrying the solemnity.
“I should have never let you go to Parv,” Rudolf stated, caressing the weathered gravestone, his voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and disappointment. “You should have talked, son. We’d have helped you.” He paused, his gaze fixed on the cold stone marker bearing Samson’s name. A deep frown etched across his face as he continued, “You should at least have had a proper funeral as a King. Your teacher is sorry that he couldn’t do much.”
Sierra stood a bit far from him, her heart aching for her husband, but she knew that sometimes grief needed its solitary moments. She approached him gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Rudolf, dear," she murmured, her voice full of sympathy, "it's time to come back to us. Samson wouldn't want to see you like this.” But as she tried to console him, Sierra's own tears welled up. She missed her son deeply, and his absence had left a void in her heart that even Hans couldn't fill. She laid the white lilies she bought with her, cleaning the place a bit and the couple stood together, finding solace in each other's presence, even as their grief continued to weigh heavily upon them.
“What is this..” Hans asked himself, his breathing suddenly becoming more rampant, his chest aching like someone was clasping his heart. “I never knew him so why? Why am I feeling this way..” A single teardrop escaped from one of his eyes. He looked at Vanessa, even though she was crying and it propelled Hans further. The emotions, unknown to him flooded down and a river of tears broke out through his eyes without permission.
"Happy Birthday, son," Sierra whispered, her voice quivering as she lovingly wiped away her own tears. She turned to Hans, who stood beside her. His face was marked by streams of tears, yet his gaze remained fixed on Samson's grave. Gently, she took his trembling hand and encouraged him, "Hans, say hello to your father. He must have been waiting to hear your voice.”
Hans desperately wanted to speak, to convey all the emotions he felt at that moment, but the words seemed to elude him. Sierra tenderly embraced the young boy, who felt overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. Vanessa had her share of things, that she wanted to say, the absence of a person who had the power to set everything right that happened to her lay right in front of her. “You promised me Sam, and you broke it. But I’ll keep my promise. Hans, he’ll grow up freer than you, stronger than you and definitely someone who can keep his word. I won’t let him be like you.” She declared, softly wiping her cheeks.
Since Hans was still breathing erratically, a sign of a panic attack lingered on him. The couple decided to take him back and when they turned to leave, a voice echoed in Hans’s head, the voice he couldn’t recognise yet felt deeply familiar with, the words ringing in his head like they had travelled time to reach him.
“Your father is sorry to leave you like this son, But I still hope you find happiness in this life.”
proxybaba I actually studied to write the landscape. Man, I teared up writing this. I must say, I'm really good at writing this kind of scene.
ACT VI
THE AGE OF UNDEAD
“My father’s birthday?” Hans asked, confused.
“Yes,” Vanessa nodded, “Wear this, she put the formal suit down, continuing, “And come down quickly, Lord and Lady are already waiting.”
She left leaving him stunned. “So dead people also celebrate their birthdays.” Hans taunted, as he wore the suit, a black three-piece with a white shirt. “Now, how the heck do I make this?” He said to himself after tangling the tie with his finger gymnastic, yet it failed to form a decent structure. “Ugh, dang it—”
“What is taking you so long?” Vanessa barged in and found Hans playing with his tie.
“I don’t know how to do the tie, sis.”
“Leave it,” She came close, taking the reins and her fingers moved like magic, forming the perfect tie around his neck. “There you go. Now hurry.” She pulled him by the hand and exited the room. “Is wearing black a custom to visit the Late ones,” Hans thought as he noticed, Vanessa was also wearing a full black dress and confirmed his doubts as he saw Rudolf in the same suit as his, relatively bigger, but the design remained identical. “He even combed his hair, guess he wanted to look a bit decent to Samson… Even grandma is looking more beautiful.” Hans started combing his hair, his finger running through it and setting it up. “I should have put more effort.”
“Where is everyone?” Hans asked hinting Rudolf.
“They are enjoying the festival or market. Some meeting their parents and all…” Rudolf remarked, taunting him, “You are the only one who sleeps through the noon, and even on a good day, such as this.”
“So where exactly are we going?” He asked, ignoring Rudolf’s taunt.
“Sam is in Grimgar Royal cemetery.” Sierra answered, adding, “Now hurry, if you don’t want others to see you.”
“Yes, Grandma,” Hans ran off to her side and they sat on the carriage, set to lead them to the Royal Cemetery. As the wheels began its gentle ascent towards the cemetery, Hans glanced out of the window at the passing landscape. The buzz of the city ended quickly, and the world outside was a tapestry of lush, rolling hills and trees, their branches reaching skyward in silent tribute to the time that had passed.
Sierra, sitting opposite Hans, wore a sombre expression, her eyes reflecting the weight of the occasion. In her lap, she clutched a bouquet of white lilies, a symbol of purity and remembrance. Rudolf, beside her, was a stoic, even his neatly shaven face and perfectly combed hair couldn’t hide his sadness.
Inside the carriage, the atmosphere was a mix of emotions—quiet reflection, grief, and a sense of familial unity. “I really shouldn’t speak out of turn, this is intense,” Hans spoke inside and turned to Vanessa. She held a small, handpicked posy of wildflowers, her youthful yet sad eyes matched the gravity of the moment. “Wow, even her. Am I the abnormal here? And they should have told me if they were bringing things. Now I look like an unfilial brat.”
As they approached the cemetery's wrought-iron gates, Hans could see the old trees that lined the entrance, their gnarled branches forming a natural archway. The carriage came to a gentle stop near the entrance, and the family stepped out, their footsteps echoing on the stone path. They made their way into the cemetery, each carrying their chosen symbols of remembrance, except Hans. “I really feel out of place.”
He was feeling a mixture of emotions as they entered the royal cemetery— his senses were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur and solemnity of the place. Before him lay a landscape filled with ornate gravestones and mausoleums, each a work of art in its own right. The gravestones were carved from gleaming marble and adorned with delicate wireworks, depicting the likenesses of long-departed monarchs and nobility. The mausoleums, on the other hand, were grand structures, with towering spires and stained-glass windows that depicted scenes from the history of the Grimgar kingdom. “This is really grand, their budget must be insane”
The air was heavy with memories and history. Flowers and candles adorned the graves, offered a sense of serenity and respect. The silence in the cemetery was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant song of mourning birds. "Oh my god, why is not anyone speaking?"
Hans followed his elders, wandering among the tombstones, his fingers gently tracing the names and dates etched into the stone. As he went further, he came across a large, imposing monument at the centre of the cemetery. It was a towering statue of a regal figure, undoubtedly the first monarch of Grimgar, with a solemn expression and a crown upon his head. Flowers and offerings were placed at the base of the statue, an evidence to the enduring respect of his descendants.
“You must’ve been a big shot, fighting the mage king along with my great ancestors.” Hans bowed with respect and moved to where his elders were. They stood before an unattended grave, left in that state on purpose. “They don’t even have respect for the dead,” Rudolf said, his voice carrying the solemnity.
“I should have never let you go to Parv,” Rudolf stated, caressing the weathered gravestone, his voice trembling with a mix of sorrow and disappointment. “You should have talked, son. We’d have helped you.” He paused, his gaze fixed on the cold stone marker bearing Samson’s name. A deep frown etched across his face as he continued, “You should at least have had a proper funeral as a King. Your teacher is sorry that he couldn’t do much.”
Sierra stood a bit far from him, her heart aching for her husband, but she knew that sometimes grief needed its solitary moments. She approached him gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Rudolf, dear," she murmured, her voice full of sympathy, "it's time to come back to us. Samson wouldn't want to see you like this.” But as she tried to console him, Sierra's own tears welled up. She missed her son deeply, and his absence had left a void in her heart that even Hans couldn't fill. She laid the white lilies she bought with her, cleaning the place a bit and the couple stood together, finding solace in each other's presence, even as their grief continued to weigh heavily upon them.
“What is this..” Hans asked himself, his breathing suddenly becoming more rampant, his chest aching like someone was clasping his heart. “I never knew him so why? Why am I feeling this way..” A single teardrop escaped from one of his eyes. He looked at Vanessa, even though she was crying and it propelled Hans further. The emotions, unknown to him flooded down and a river of tears broke out through his eyes without permission.
"Happy Birthday, son," Sierra whispered, her voice quivering as she lovingly wiped away her own tears. She turned to Hans, who stood beside her. His face was marked by streams of tears, yet his gaze remained fixed on Samson's grave. Gently, she took his trembling hand and encouraged him, "Hans, say hello to your father. He must have been waiting to hear your voice.”
Hans desperately wanted to speak, to convey all the emotions he felt at that moment, but the words seemed to elude him. Sierra tenderly embraced the young boy, who felt overwhelmed by the weight of the moment. Vanessa had her share of things, that she wanted to say, the absence of a person who had the power to set everything right that happened to her lay right in front of her. “You promised me Sam, and you broke it. But I’ll keep my promise. Hans, he’ll grow up freer than you, stronger than you and definitely someone who can keep his word. I won’t let him be like you.” She declared, softly wiping her cheeks.
Since Hans was still breathing erratically, a sign of a panic attack lingered on him. The couple decided to take him back and when they turned to leave, a voice echoed in Hans’s head, the voice he couldn’t recognise yet felt deeply familiar with, the words ringing in his head like they had travelled time to reach him.
“Your father is sorry to leave you like this son, But I still hope you find happiness in this life.”
proxybaba I actually studied to write the landscape. Man, I teared up writing this. I must say, I'm really good at writing this kind of scene.
