Alright babies, heres the story that goes with the pictures I put up earlier. Feels all around. Courtesy of Snogfairy on Tumblr. ~Bixlow The dry autumn leaves strewn all over the lawn crunched beneath the two pair of feet that walked steadily onwards. Their steps were slow, but with purpose and direction. Any person who might have watched them from afar would have been able to observe that they were not taking an afternoon stroll: they had a destination. Around them, chiseled blocks of stone jutted out from the ground: endless rows of loved ones now gone. They came to a halt in front of two large, beautifully ornamented gravestones, set closely side by side. The old man looked over at his wife, concern shining in his tired yet youthful eyes. She just stared, an unreadable expression on her features. Unreadable for all except him. He knew how she was suffering, despite what she tried to tell even herself. Her siblings had lived good, long lives, and she had been blessed to spend so many of her years with them. But even that knowledge could not fill the hole that their deaths had left in her heart. It had been hard enough when Elfman had died 3 years ago, and now Mirajane had left her younger sister the last of the Strauss siblings. The funeral had been two days ago. When she turned her head to look at him, her sad eyes betrayed the small smile on her lips. He put an arm around her shoulder. They, too, had become old, and even this gentle motion pained his worn out muscles. It’s alright, Lis. Sometimes it surprised even himself how croaky his voice sounded. Now she slowly rested her head against his chest, her short white hair freeing itself from her scarf and caressing her cheeks while she silently wept. I miss them so much. I know. I do too. The treetops rustled as the wind blew through them, sending stray leaves flying through the air. Bixlow gently took Lisanna’s hand, and they stood quietly for a while, until he could feel her sobs dying down. He turned a little further towards her and brought his hand up to wipe away some of her tears, ignoring the arthritis crooking his fingers. She looked at him as new tears welled up in her eyes, but love and gratitude shone in them now. It’s been too quiet for too long. Realization slowly dawned on her face. “Do you think we lost the children?” Those little monsters? Nah. He chuckled. And indeed, not much later their old ears picked up a number of small feet rustling through the foliage. Grangranny! Grangramps! The first to reach them was their youngest great-grandchild. Her long silver hair flew in the wind as she ran towards them, a carefree smile on her face and a little side ponytail dangling from her head. She was a spitting image of Mirajane. Lisanna felt a stabbing pain in her heart when she looked at her now, bringing images of her childhood with her, but at the same time a feeling of pride and love took hold of her. When the child came to a halt in front of the tombstones, her tiny eyes grew wide and a reverent silence overcame her. This is where great-great-auntie Mira is now, right? The girl, Lisa, was only 4 years old. She knew Elfman from pictures only, but the memory of Mira and her freshly baked cookies would forever be a fond one. Yes. Lisanna smiled fondly at the little girl. It was impossible for such a young child to grasp the full meaning of death, so the short answer satisfied her fully. She remained quiet for a little moment longer, but then she started rummaging through her pockets. Look what I found! In her little hand she held two shriveled brown chestnuts, which she presented proudly. They look like you! See? Grangramps Bixli, that’s your chin. Ouch. When he received a light blow to the side, Bixlow quickly corrected his statement. Wow, you’re right! It’s an extraordinarily handsome chestnut. The young girl giggled. By now, the rest of the children had arrived. There were six of them. Lisa’s older sister aswell as their cousin with the crazy blue hair, a slightly older girl with brown hair - Elfman and Evergreen’s youngest great-grandchild - and two blondes. Maka and her brother Alfie, the two youngest of the five great-grandchildren of Laxus and Mirajane. They would have been so proud, watching their beloved children’s children lovingly decorating the tombstones, laying down fresh flowers and mumbling to each other about the adventures their late family members must have experienced. They never really had gotten to know them, had they? Not in the way Lisanna had known them. They had listended to their tales of bravery and danger with glistening eyes, had sat on their laps and laughed with them, until it had been time to leave; to visit them another time. They were the great-grandparents, the remnants of another age, loved but eventually left behind, drowned by the currents of time. That’s the way it always was, wasn’t it? The only direction you could ever go: onwards. Life was merciless like that. Our grandchildren sure are brave and stupid, leaving us fossils alone with that entire horde. Lisanna chuckled, then, her chest aching from the vibration. Nothing could ever again fill the hole that her brother and sister’s death had created. She knew that. It was as unalterable as the gravestones in front of her. But she still had so much to live for. She still had family. The path Bixlow and her had to walk might not be the longest anymore, but they would try to enjoy every last moment of it. Steadily onwards.
Posted on: Tue, 07 Oct 2014 02:13:29 +0000
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