I remember how my hands went numb from squeezing his. I remember how my throat burned from screaming his name. I remember how empty my arms felt as I cradled his lifeless body. But most of all, I remember dying with him that day.
And the next day, I buried my heart and soul in the grave that was supposed to be his.
His funeral was unique as far as funerals went. There was no body, no coffin, and, for the most part, no tears. Nobody wanted to do the eulogy; nobody wanted to talk about a dead guy who wasn't even there. In the end, I did it, and did such a lousy job at that. I tried to sound normal, but my voice was gruff and my breath was bated. Not knowing where to begin, I apologized. I apologized to every single person who actually cared to be there that day for having the gall to come back. Two went out and two should have come back. Two, or none at all.
Halfway through, I caught a glance of the headmaster. His mouth was closed the whole time, but the look he gave me kept saying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Somewhere in the mess of people, the professors were all huddled together. I wanted to get some strength from my professor, Moolinda Wu, but I knew I wouldn't find her. I wouldn't have found any other Life wizard that day.
Nobody really paid attention—part of me was relieved, and part of me wanted to do their eulogy next. When I'd said all that could be said about a guy who was impossible to put into words, the entire Death School started digging his grave. No earth-sundering magic or raising undead workers; just plain digging.
They placed a bouquet of nightshades inside—in honor of his name and his love of gardening—along with his staff and his spare armor. And as fast as they had dug it, the hole was re-filled. The Hedge Maze was supposed to be a place to celebrate life, so holding a funeral there was a rather big irony. Nobody minded, though. Not even Lady Oriel, the seraph tending the place. Hunter had been a dear friend of hers, so she would have gladly offered any and every inch of the garden for him.
That night, the nightshades in the garden seemed brighter than any other flower. Their purple petals seemed to take on a more crimson glow, reminding me of blood and death and sorrow. The sight of them was heartrending but spellbinding all the same, and I wouldn't have been aware I was crying had Headmaster Ambrose not placed a hand on my shoulder. I still couldn't forgive the old man, but his little way of comforting was most welcomed.
When goodbyes had been uttered and thanks had been offered, it was finally time to go home. Except I didn't have a home anymore. Just a dorm room that was way too big for a single wizard.