A/N: This is based off a real place. I've visited it often; these details actually come from my most recent visit.
One had been here many times. The other, only a few.
The graveyard was located on a lesser-traveled, old trail. The dirt trail was along rolling hills, miles away from the nearest city or civilization, greatly unexplored. The clearing, located on two of the small hills, was almost completely surrounded by long, thin wheat grass, blowing gently in the wind. The honey-colored grasses swished as a crawling creature beneath scampered away into the forest that surrounded the graveyard on nearly all sides. A breeze blew through the air and a rusted sign creaked from its place on the ground. Once the sign had read "Salem", but the letters were faded and only the S and the E were visible easily. It leaned against one of the two oak trees in the clearing beside a broken, unmarked grave.
There were graves scattered about, the majority small, simple pieces of stone, not even standing but laying in the ground. They dated far back; as far back as near the beginning of the Empire. They were crumbled and a few were broken, one no longer standing and the other covered in moss and foliage. Wildflowers and small thistles dotted the morbidly beautiful area. The grey clouds, warning the oncoming of rain, were breathing slowly towards the graves, but there was only the fresh smell of the upcoming rain in the air.
Two beings stood here, about the same height, both young men. One was blond, with short, messy hair, and the other had long, dark hair. Both had vague smiles on their faces as they crossed the broken, wooden fence that led into the area. The smiles weren't altogether happy; it was a graveyard, after all. But they weren't totally mournful, either, more like solemn and peaceful. Only the gentle whistling of the breeze and calls of birds interrupted the comfortable silence. They strode in a relaxed manner through the graveyard, having been there few times before. They hardly ever had the time any longer.
Two graves, simply marked "Mama" and "Papa", caught the dark-haired one's eye. He'd been here even less than the blond had, and had forgotten a majority of the details. Beside the two unmarked graves were about six others, just as small and simple - they were children's graves. The oldest was nine, and the youngest wasn't even a day. All shared the same last name, all barely a year apart from the other. A large yellow wildflower sprouted right over one of the children's graves, the youngest. The dark-haired male gave a small smile, but it was as solemn as the silence that rested the area. He vaguely heard the blond kneel down nearby, heard the clipping of a few of the wildflowers being pulled.
He could hear a dim sound of children's laughter and he could have sworn he saw the grass being pushed down in some places. He blinked and heard nothing.
Turning, he began to walk over towards the blond, standing behind him. Gazing slowly at the grave he was kneeled against, the young man set a hand on the blond's back. He never turned around. Hand not moving, the former read the gravestones. Norein and Finath Scifo; the most recent graves in the small yard. There were very few even from the past couple of centuries, if any. The two Scifos were the only ones he had seen so far.
The blond placed some of the wildflowers, that were of the same shade of his bright hair, in a small stone vase at the base of the single grave that held his parents.
"For you, mom. And you too, dad," he whispered, voice as delicate as the petals of the flowers that slipped into the vase that was filled with water from the recent rains. The blue eyes turned up towards the one standing behind him, before he lifted himself to his feet, briefly glancing around. He cleared his throat. "...When I die, I want to be buried here, Yuri," he said suddenly afterwards, looking back at the named young man, Yuri.
"It's nice," Yuri responded softly, straightening. "Better than the loudness of Zaphias' graveyards. Or catacombs. I think I would, too, to be honest. Heh."
The blond's fingers brushed his parents' grave, the grey stone seeming somewhat smooth where he had. "...Yeah. It is."
Yuri smiled softly and offered a hand to the blond, squeezing the other's slightly more tanned skin when it met his own. "...C'mon, Flynn. We can't stay out here long," he murmured, a world away from his usual, outside personality. "It'll start raining, and we'll both catch a cold, hm?"
Flynn's lips twitched up in a small, amused smile. "Yuri Lowell, afraid of catching a cold? I think you'll be okay."
"Mhm, yeah. Hush, or I might just leave you out here. Catch a cold all by yourself, 'o mighty commandant," the dark-haired man responded in almost his normal speaking voice, turning his head. His long hair flew in the breeze, resting behind him mostly still.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Flynn's voice was still amused.
As they began to stride out, Yuri was the one to close the wooden, rotten gate. He looked back towards the graveyard and could have sworn he heard a child's laugh again, followed by a softer voice that he couldn't make out. He saw a broken rock move, but when he blinked again, the noises were gone and the rock was back where it was.
This place is odd, he thought, and followed Flynn to leave.
...
Yuri was the first of the two to find his fate. It was more expected, really; Flynn was always more careful, more cautious, less prideful. Yuri tended to rush into things, tended to get angry at those who harmed his friends, and one day the wolf bit off more than he could chew. He'd finally been distracted, he'd finally let down his guard, and it cost him. He'd been visiting Flynn one day, and said he was going out for some fresh air - and then not an hour later he was in the infirmary fighting for his life with a mortal wound. When Flynn had first laid eyes on the terrible gash in Yuri's stomach, he nearly got sick. And in that moment, his soldier's instincts knew Yuri had not much longer.
And it could not have been at a worse time. Lady Estellise, who would be the only one capable of healing such a wound with her artes she still retained, was away to Halure. Immediately, Flynn called for her, but a messenger could only run so fast. A horse could only run so fast.
Gels did next to nothing but ease the pain. Yuri was unconscious, though, so it mattered little. The wound was too great, and eventually, it overpowered the man's body.
Yuri died that night.
The funeral that followed was brief and simple. Only members of Brave Vesperia and Yuri's friends attended, though that wasn't all. It was all them, gathered around the simple pine coffin. Even Lieutenant Sodia had attended, and Flynn vaguely wondered why she leaned over the closed coffin muttering "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I never made it up" but he wouldn't question that, perhaps it was private, and he did not need to know. If he did, Sodia would tell him.
He found himself crying as they made their way with the coffin to the graveyard with the rusted sign that read "Salem". He figured Yuri would enjoy it here, and this is where the vigilante would be buried.
The burial was quick, solemn, and silent. He could hear Lady Estellise's sobs, the mage comforting her, could see Captain Schwann whispering words to himself and the tall Krityian with the ever present, unrevealing expression on her face. He saw a light of grief in her violet eyes, however. Repede sat at his side, soft whimpers of grief escaping the dog occasionally, and Karol sat next to the dog, arms around him and face buried in his fur. He could hear the young man's sobs; despite his age, he was still childish at heart, and this had certainly struck that.
And he found himself crying harder than when someone else had been being lowered in that grave. But just like that time, he stared ahead, daring not to break his mask, despite how the water already had.
It didn't last much longer. He stayed afterwards, Repede still at his side and the dog's long muzzle buried into his neck with his single, icy eye closed. If a dog could cry, Flynn would bet Repede would have been crying as well; after all, the old war dog had grown up with Yuri. Had been with Yuri until his very last day. Until his very last hour.
"Come on, Repede. L-let's...let's go, okay?" Flynn murmured, shifting before standing. The dog let out a soft woof and nodded, raising to his paws as well. Swallowing hard, the knight turned and began walking towards the gate.
He felt a tug on his sleeve, felt a hand on his shoulder and a whisper in his ear, heard a laugh and a giggle, but when he turned around, there was nothing but air and the soft breeze that blew through the graveyard like it had years ago.
He glanced down at Repede, who was looking at him. Wiping his eyes, he cleared his throat.
"...Let's go," he mumbled again, and left.
...
Commandant Flynn Scifo fell into his own eternal sleep in a battle some years later. A noble death, but there wasn't anything set off about it. He died quickly with a blade in his hand on the battlefield.
He was buried where he had told before, right next to where "the great" Yuri Lowell had been. It was visited by many, as he was the commandant, but many of them trickled off before the burial even finished. Some left even earlier; very few stayed the whole while, and even fewer afterwards. But, what would a dead man mind of who did and didn't come to his funeral?
Flynn opened his eyes to silver skies. He could feel the warmth of the grass beneath him and questioned it greatly because, hadn't he been on a battlefield only moments before? Then he remembered the blow that had knocked him unconscious, and his first thought was he was simply waking up from that. He began to sit up, and froze at who he saw. Kneeled down beside him was the grinning face of Yuri, not looking a day over twenty years old again, and the dark-haired man - spirit, now - pulled him to sit up. Wildly Flynn looked about.
Yuri wasn't the only one here. Some of the child spirits were playing and a woman was holding a young baby. A man sat atop one of the square gravestones, a large smile on his face as he teased one of the children. Their voices sounded like whispers, but he could understand them clearly. The only thing that stood out was the children's laughter.
And then a snap of spectral fingers in front of him caught his attention. Flynn looked back at Yuri, questions obvious in his blue eyes.
"Get up then, Blondie," Yuri chuckled, standing and helping the blond to his feet. He looked back at Flynn with a bright smile, closing his grey eyes. "Well, I've got a bit of explaining to do. But, first of all..." He opened one eye, sending a teasing look to the commandant's confused expression.
"Welcome to peace, Princess. You've accepted your invitation to the afterlife."