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Memories of the Departed
Around a fire sat Gard, Zuvowang and Dalv. Talking about Kernunnos, Gard ultimately came to what Dalv was going to do.
"Look at Brigid over yonder." Said Gard, pointing to the eight-year old girl with the veil now upon her head. "She now wears a veil. When my grandfather was accidentally killed by my brother Procyon I made a sword."
"Accidentally?" asked Zuvowang.
"As you know, Procyon suffered from a bloodlust curse. He was under such a bloodlust when he killed our grandfather. Didn't realize that was who he killed until it had well passed." Gard sighed. "I didn't get around to making the sword until I was forty-nine."
"How old were your grandfather was killed?"
"Nine. It was an impressive sword my wife helped me make it. Just wish I had chosen a stronger metal, I still have it but it is broken now."
"That's terrific, Gard." Commented Dalv. "I'll just write a poem about Kernunnos using my memories of him."
"Any certain memories coming to mind now?" asked Gard.
"Just the one where he locked himself inside a cage meant for a circus beast." Dalv shook his head. "It was embarrassing. Amusing but embarrassing."
"Great, now I'm thinking of the time my grandfather cut his fingers off when cutting meat." Gard brought his hand to his face. "What have you done?"
"All I can think of is when my sons by my first marriage were pelting livestock with fruit." Zuvowang gave a sigh. "Granted, that should have been one of the signs that my first wife would try to have them kill me."
A moment of silence passed between the three. It was broken by a spear flying past Gard's head… it entered a haystack.
Shaking his head, Gard commented on it. "Whoever threw that better stick to close range weaponry!"
There was then a cry of "Sorry!" The owner of the voice was Arnuwanda. The result was Dalv sighing. He'd talk to him, later. It only caused Dalv to wonder just how Kernunnos could have been a better spear thrower.
"Well…" said Zuvowang, looking at the haystack. "I salute the victorious dead and bid you all a good night."
"As do I!" added Gard.
"I do not think I shall be able to sleep tonight." Said Dalv, thinking too much of his departed Kernunnos. There was Arnuwanda true and many another Dalving but Kernunnos' death had very much affected him. Yet sleep Dalv did, for sleep is important and with many of his descendants nearby he was never far from family and he was never far from friends, who were also mourning Kernunnos.
As for Balor and Brigid, they both sat upon the wall of Wilusa looking up at the moons. They couldn't believe that Kernunnos was gone and yet he was. For Balor, who had recently become Piyamaradu's student he had been so proud only for the pride to be washed away by a feeling of sorrow. For Brigid, who had been freed from imprisonment the joy she felt had been washed away by the feeling of sorrow.
And yet still Balor wondered where Kernunnos was now. Procyon only said that he was somewhere so Balor wondered whether or not Kernunnos was now a wandering sprit.
Yet Brigid did not think of where Kernunnos was now. She only wondered about the location of the ThunderCats. Did they still live or had they followed Kernunnos down the same path or vice versa? Where were they?
The thoughts of were friends were was on the minds of both. Where were they? Where were they not?
What was next was another question. What would come next? What would there be in Wilusa after this day of sepultures?
An espousal day would come three days after. The espousal of Bethad and Henti! Or as they said in the less archaic tongues: nuptials.
The End