tears for the dead

Years had passed, and Mira continued living with the old man, raising Darius in their secluded home in the wilds. Darius had grown into a strong, capable boy, his progress astonishing Mira. His hair, brown as autumn leaves, framed bright blue eyes that gleamed with curiosity and determination. Though still young, he already displayed wisdom beyond his years, shaped by the hard life they lived.

One day, while Mira was busy outside their home, Darius approached her with an unusual request.

"Mama, I want to go into the big forest," he said, his voice firm but curious. "I hear something calling my name."

Mira froze, her heart skipping a beat. She turned to him sharply. "No, Darius! You mustn't!" Her tone was sterner than she intended, and guilt crept in when she saw the hurt in his eyes.

"But Mama," he persisted, his voice softening, "I can hunt us a big deer. Wouldn't that help us?"

Mira sighed, crouching to meet his gaze. "Darius, the forest is dangerous. Promise me you won't go there alone."

He nodded reluctantly, the curiosity still shining in his eyes. Darius had always been eager to help, shouldering responsibilities far beyond his age. Mira often worried he was growing up too fast.

Life in the wilds was harsh. The old man had grown frail, no longer able to hunt or farm, leaving Mira and Darius to fend for themselves. They often ventured to the ruined city of Caldrith, once a bustling kingdom before its defeat in the war against Fenalore. The city, now lawless and broken, was a haven for those seeking to survive unnoticed.

On one of their trips to sell fruits, Mira purchased a clay pot to replace their old, cracked one. On their way back, they stopped by the stream to fetch water. It was there they met a woman and her young daughter.

"It's rare to see someone here," Mira greeted the woman with a smile.

"I come here often," the woman replied, laughing lightly. "I live near the city, but not in it. Too many rules there. What about you?"

"We live deep in the wilds," Mira said cautiously. Glancing at the little girl, she added, "Is she your daughter? She's adorable."

"Her name is Lyra," the woman said proudly.

Mira smiled. "Darius, come say hello to Lyra."

Darius approached with a shy smile, and soon, the two children began playing by the stream. Mira and the woman chatted briefly before parting ways, and Mira couldn't help but think of how isolated their life had become.

---

When Mira and Darius returned home that evening, they found the old man lying motionless on the floor.

Mira rushed to him, her heart sinking. "Master, wake up!" she cried, shaking his frail body.

Darius stood by the doorway, watching silently, his face pale. "Mama, is he… gone?"

Mira stopped, tears streaming down her face as she turned to Darius. She didn't know how to soften the truth for him, so she nodded. "Yes, Darius. He's… he's gone."

Darius clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. The old man had been more than a teacher to him; he had been a guiding figure, the only one who had shown him how to survive in the wild.

Mira composed herself quickly, knowing there was no one nearby to help. "We need to give him a proper farewell," she said softly.

Together, they carried the old man's body to the riverbank. Mira gathered wood and built a small pyre while Darius silently helped. As the flames rose, Mira's sobs broke the silence, her tears reflecting the firelight.

Darius stood beside her, his gaze fixed on the pyre. "He taught me everything, Mama," he said quietly. "I'll make sure we'll survive, just like he wanted."

Mira placed a hand on his shoulder, her heart aching at how quickly he was forced to grow up.

As the fire turned the old man's body to ash, the two stood side by side, mourning the loss of a mentor, a guide, and a part of their small family.