Page 231 of Gift from the Source
Today we laid Vince to rest beside his brothers.
Gaster and I crafted a casket with deep, intricate carvings of his lion. The wood matched the color of his mane.
Carrington, with Layton’s help, carried his casket as Willow and I strapped him to Draken’s back.
The dragon gave him one last flight.
He called it their last lesson.
Willow took to the skies with us on her back for support. The two of them put on quite the show for the lion.
I know he’s in the beyond, jumping up and down, pounding his fist.
I’ve been asking Willow for days now if she wanted to help me fix the land out here and every day she’s told me no, not yet.
As soon as we got back from his remembrance, she grabbed my hand and walked me out here. She said that it wasn’t right to wash away what happened until everyone was laid to rest.
Now they all are.
Our hands slowly withdraw from the dirt as the tree line about five feet in front of us finishes cresting the sky.
Her head falls back as she looks up as far as she can.
From start to finish, she watched their growth.
Just as I’ve done with her.
I stretch my palm out and create a small collection of flowers right at the base of the massive tree that stands out front.
The dark midnight blue stands out against all the lively green and brown vegetation. Memories flood my mind and my heart warms.
“It’s beautiful, Tillman. I’ve seen a few of those on the running trail at the mansion.”
“They’re called Midnight Lillies. But my dad created a whole flower box outside my mom’s window, and he called them Midnight Tillys. They were her favorites.”
She chuckles lightly and the sound pulls a smile to my lips. “So you’re telling me you got your romantic side from Sean?”
I really laugh at that and possibly blush. “He was definitely the one to always bring around flowers, but they all doted on Mom. They all were definitely the examples I tried to take after.”
Her eyes twinkle with mischief and I’m ready for whatever sass is about to come, but just as her mouth opens, her eyes lose focus.
Uncle Orien.
I don’t invade, but I’ve always been able to tell the difference between her talking to him, Gaster, or Oakly. Her face changes for each one. The guys, I never know unless I’m in the internal conversation as well. When it’s him, everything around her fades away as she falls into her mind.
It’s happened quite a few times over the last few days.
“He’d like to talk to us,”she says softly.
“Us?”
“Yeah, if you’re okay with that.”
“Of course I am.”
I swallow roughly as I prepare myself for whatever he’s about to say.
“How’s it going, nephew?”
