(AN: Hi all. If anyone wants to know, I am reworking The Shadows Grow Longer in a big way. It will eventually be updated – I do not know when exactly.)
Tiffin Ellerian Wrynn
Queen of Stormwind
Fair and just, a wit as quick as her smile.
May the Light inherit your warmth, for
our world grows cold in your absence.
Fair and Just
Wheat-colored hair strewn with pink rose petals lay upon the embrodered pillow. A white cloth covered the forehead, almost concealed by the dainty silver headpiece so carefully arranged over it. Eyes closed with unnaturally white lids hiding whatever color once , the pallor of death already battling with the heavy makeup on her face, the body looked frail and broken although every attempt had been made for her to appear life-like and at peace.
The prayers had ended. It was time for the body to be taken away for burial.
Sobs and whimpers surrounded the coffin as the wooden lid was gently placed over the pale body, forever obscuring the pink roses, lovely clothes, and the once attractive face from the sight of the living.
Inconsolable, the woman's family and friends followed the funeral bier out to the cemetery as the priest chanted and sang, swinging incense at the front of the procession.
Clinging to the arm of a dark haired young man, the best friend of the deceased allowed her heavy black veil to fall limply over her own pale face. Her eyes were swollen and red, cheeks sunken with tear stains upon them; it would be best to keep her tormented visage hidden.
"Are you all right?" whispered the choked voice of her male companion.
She nodded, but her trembling body and soft whimpering gave her away. Strong arms surrounded her, and gratefully she collapsed into them and let him guide her along as the funeral procession of Lucinda Holloway proceeded to the outskirts of the town. To the dreaded cemetery, their final destination.
She is never coming back. I will never see her again, never hear her laughter.
The phrases swirled through her head, and she choked and gasped as more tears blinded her.
Poor Lucy. Taken by the dreaded fever that had spread through Moonbrook like fire after the gypsy caravan from Duskwood came. As they were for everyone who had died from the fever, the girl's final days had not been easy. Every attempt had been made to soothe her burning forehead and to cool her sweating body, to give her relief from the pain wracking her small body. Every attempt had been in vain, and she had died in agony.
The deceased's friends and family watched in torment as the pallbearers, observed carefully by the grave digger, lowered the coffin six feet down into the freshly turned earth with ropes. Flowers were tossed into the grave by those strong enough to do so.
One last prayer, and it was over.
Swarmed by friends in a sea of black clothing, the Holloway family was ushered away back to town amid wailing and tears.
As the procession slowly filed out and dwindled down to the last few, the grave digger, glad to be rid of them all, began to fill the grave of young Lucy Holloway.
Escorted out by her brother, Tiffin Ellerian glanced back one final time at her best friend's final resting place. The sight of the grave digger tossing dirt carelessly into the grave sent her into another fit of tears, and she leaned her head against Carin's shoulder, glad once again for the dark veil that hid her face.
Lucy... Lucy...
Her sobs began afresh.