Disclaimer: I do not - nor do I claim to - own RWBY or any other media that may be referenced in this fic. All rights go to their respective owners. The only thing I lay any claim to are my OCs. Additionally, I do not speak Spanish, any usage of it is done through Google Translate (I know, its bad, but its the only translator I really know how to work).
Important: The Grimm Reaper is being put on hiatus for a while, read the Author's Note at the bottom for more info.
"As her oldest – and only – biological descendant, you have the right to arrange her funeral," Rosa tells Mercury. "It's also your duty to ensure that she is given the proper send off."
"I don't know how to," he reminds her. "I don't know how to give her a proper send off, I don't even know how to organise any funeral."
Rosa nods in acceptance. "I figured. If you want, I can do it for you though. Abuela taught Oscar and I all those things a while back, just in case something happened to her."
"Please. I want her to be given a proper funeral," he begs her.
"I will."
"Jayden, come meet your new sister," the little boy's father asks softly.
Little feet pad against the wooden floorboards and he clambers up onto the couch to see the bundle in his father's arms.
"Does she have a name?" he asks,
His father smiles softly. "She does. Her name is Maria. Maria Lilliana Calavera."
"Hi Mawia! I'm Jayden!" he says brightly. "I'm gonna be the best big bwotha ever. I pwomise."
"I'm sure you will be, Jayden. You'll always look out for her," the old soldier says softly, a single tear running down his cheek.
"Papá? Why you cwying?" Jayden asks. The little boy looks around for answers but only comes up with another question. "Whewe's Mamá?"
His father speaks softly, but it doesn't answer Jayden's question. "Women are the bravest people in the world, Jayden, they are the ones who can bring new life into the world, but it is very hard for them to do that. Sometimes, sometimes women never get to see the baby they gave life to."
"Whewe's Mamá?" asks again, tears spilling over his cheeks.
The man just shakes his head sadly. "I'm sorry, mi piedra preciosa, she's gone."
Jayden tumbles off the couch. "I don't want a sista! I want Mamá! I want Mamá!" he screams.
In his father's arms, Maria starts crying at the noise.
"I want Mamá!" he screams as his father takes his sister out of the room to her nursery.
He keeps screaming the words over and over and over again, but his mamá doesn't come.
The group gathered in the tree line is larger than she thought it would be. Her squad is there, Jaune and Pyrrha's families as well. Cordovin sits towards the back of the group.
It is a small clearing, with logs moved to make seating and snow brushed aside to let a pile of logs, branches and dry leaves create a place for Maria's lifeless body to rest. Three torches burning steadily mark the end of the area.
Rosa stands at the front; a heavy black formless dress shrouding her figure and her feet cold against the earthen floor. She doesn't wear her goggles today, instead letting her natural self be shown to the world.
There's no metal here. Yang took off her prosthetic and Mercury sits in a wheelchair made of wood. All are dressed in clothing made of natural fibres instead of synthetics and plastic. Today is a day of nature.
"Hurry, Maria! He'll be back soon!" Jayden urges his sister as she balances on his shoulders. The jar of sticky dates is just within her reach and the two desperately want to steal some.
"I'm trying!" the five-year-old huffs. She leans in a bit and her hands wrap around the jar. "Got i- whoa!"
*thump*
He manages to catch both her and the jar as they fall. "Good job," the eleven-year-old tells her. He quickly opens the jar and they both take one of the sticky dates, popping them into their mouths even as he screws the lid back on tight.
Once again, Maria clambers into his shoulders and balances precariously as she puts the jar back.
Not five minutes later, their father walks in the front door and Maria runs up to him. "Papá! Are you going to teach me to fight today? Please!"
He pats her on the head. "Not today, Maria, not today."
"But Papá!" she whines.
"Maybe tomorrow, Maria, my bones are too sore today."
"Okay…"
"Welcome one and all, I call you to sit and bear witness to this remembrance, mourning, and celebration of life lost. I invite you to shed all masks and bare your heart and soul in this safe place. All here share a common thread in the tapestry of life, and it is that commonality that draws us here today," Rosa intones, voice even as her eyes roam over the people gathered in front of her.
"We gather to lay to rest Maria Lilliana Calavera. I am Rosa Ruby Calavera, adopted granddaughter of Maria, and given right by her only blood descendant Mercury to lead this gathering today. Do any contest this right?"
Silence.
"Again," he instructs and Maria – thirteen with silver eyes shining with determination – goes through the movements again.
His own silver eyes watch her like a hawk. His bones ache something fierce and his knee has been getting steadily worse, but seeing his daughter like this, it gives him hope.
She's strong and always getting stronger.
He corrects her technique and has her do it again. She does.
They could spend hours like this, and they do. Often in fact. Sometimes it hurts to look at her, to be reminded so vividly of the wife he lost. Other times he wonders if he can even teach her enough to prepare her for the world of a hunter, the world she is so intent on entering.
Maria cherishes every moment of her training. She throws herself into every session, and she always hurries her schoolwork, all for more time to train.
Her father is her idol, the only parent she's ever known. His every word is her gospel and she holds tight to everything he says. This man, this soldier who has seen countless battles and come through still living, this silver-eyed warrior, he is the standard she hopes to one day live up to. His legacy is one she wants to carry on. A legacy of protection. Defending the defenceless and the unprotected.
More than just her idolisation of her father, she's always felt a pull inside her, urging her to rise up and protect. An urge to fight against destruction.
"Again," her father instructs, and Maria – young and untouched by tragedy – doesn't hesitate to obey.
"We begin with remembrance, for we cannot mourn and celebrate what we do not remember," Rosa announces.
She takes a deep breath before continuing.
"Maria Calavera was many things in life. To her parents, she was a daughter. To her brother, she was a sister. To her daughter, she was a mother. To her grandchildren, she was a grandmother. To her students, she was a teacher. To her friends, she was a confidant. To those she defended, she was a saviour. To those who stood against her, she was a huntress. She was all these things and more. I call on those present to speak of what she was."
Oscar stands and speaks first. "She was selfless. She took in children she had no obligation to care for and treated them like her own."
"She was forgiving, welcoming with open arms all family regardless of their past," Mercury says.
"She was stubborn, always keeping to what she believed the right path to be," Qrow shared.
"She was brave," Cordovin says, voice getting stuck in her throat. "She walked the paths she was warned off in order to help those she cared about."
Saffron stands up with baby August on her hip and speaks. "She was kind, considerate, willing to lend a hand to strangers."
"We acknowledge all that she was, all that she did, and all the lives she touched, irrevocably changing them," Rosa says with finality in her voice.
Maria is nineteen when the unthinkable happens.
Jayden takes care of the funeral – it is his right as the eldest – and she watches from the front row.
She takes up her position at his side as they lower their flaming torches to their father's cradle, incinerating the remains. She cries ugly tears as she watches the flames slowly die out, leaving ashes to spread in the wind and provide nutrients for life elsewhere in the world.
Maria is nineteen when she loses her father.
He was seventy-four. The mother she never met had died at thirty-nine.
Maria is nineteen when she finally understands with clarity why life is so precious.
Life is oh so precious, because Death lurks around every corner and you never know when you'll see your loved ones again.
Jayden is twenty-five, married, and already has a daughter. He's twenty-five when he becomes the new patriarch, and the promise he made nineteen years ago to his father is one he still intends to keep.
"Come on, Mar, let it all out," he says as he gathers her into his arms and lets her cry her tears. "Let your big brother take care of you."
"We have remembered, and now we mourn. All life is precious, all life, unique. The loss of any life is a tragedy. But from tragedy comes the chance for growth. From the fires of destruction, new life blossoms. From blood spilt, peace is wrought. From death comes life, and from life comes death, an unending cycle natural in all senses. It is not this cycle we mourn, but it is the individual," Rosa explains.
"In a world so large, it is individuals that touch us, shape us, mould us into who we are today. For all that those moments will always live on through us, we mourn the loss of the one who made them possible for no one can replace them. No one can replace Maria Calavera in all aspects of who she was. She cannot be replicated; her loss leaves a hole our lives that will forever remain empty. Her loss is what we mourn and is a loss that will be eternally felt by us gathered here today."
In a hotel room in the middle of Vacuo, a twenty-year-old Maria sits on the floor and lights a candle in front of a picture of her father.
"Hi Papá. I did it. I got my hunter's license. Passed with flying colours too. I'm officially allowed to take on missions," she tells the photo.
She wrings her hands for a few moments before speaking again. "I think… I think I'm going to don a mask. Just for missions hunting Grimm. I figure, what better way to keep my eyes a secret than to not let anyone know I'm different? Should keep me safe in that regard."
She rambles on for a few minutes about her training before she drifts onto another tangent. "Jayden's had his hands full lately. Carmen is becoming a cheeky little kid, and Estrella is pregnant again. They're… they're happy… You'd be proud of the man he's become. He's a good father and husband. He's a good brother too."
A tear trickles down her cheek.
"I wish you could be here to see it for yourself. I miss you."
"I invite Mercury and Oscar, grandsons of Maria, to join me," Rosa announces.
Sombrely, the two walk up to her and stand on either side. She turns and takes one of the torches and faces Mercury.
"Do you, Mercury Black, take this torch as the oldest of Maria Calavera's grandchildren, as her only blood descendant?" she asks him.
"I do."
"Do you take upon you the burden that comes with this torch?"
"I do."
"Do you take this burden with intentions to uphold it?"
"I do."
"Then take this torch and hold it steadfast," she orders, holding it out to him.
She turns and lifts the second torch.
"Do you, Oscar Calavera-Pine, take this torch as the youngest of Maria Calavera's grandchildren?" she asks him.
"I do."
She repeats the same questions to him and he responds the same as Mercury did.
She takes a breath and then hefts the last torch in her own arms and holds it up in front of her, flames dancing in front of her eyes.
"You need to stop this, Maria," Jayden tells her.
"I'm fine," she insists.
"You're not fine. You came home battered and bruised and your shoulder was all sorts of busted. At this rate, you're going to get yourself killed. You need to stop," he reasons.
She's twenty-eight, still young, still strong. Her father hadn't stopped fighting until his mid-fifties, until he'd had two kids to raise on his own.
"I told you, I'm fine. I just needed a few weeks for my aura to set things right. I know how to take care of myself," she tells him. "I wouldn't put my duty on the line like that."
He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. "No. Maria, no," he groans.
"What?"
"It isn't your duty. Anyone can fight, anyone can do what you do, there's no reason for you to always push yourself as hard as you do. You need more in life than just this misguided sense of duty," he tells her tiredly.
"Misguided?"
"Yes, misguided."
"How can you say that?" she asks him. "How can you say that wanting to protect people is misguided? How can you say that defending people, defending life is misguided? It's literally the least misguided thing there is."
"That isn't what I was saying. I'm just saying that this, throwing yourself into danger like this over and over and over again… that is misguided. That isn't who you could be. That doesn't have to be your life," he explains.
"But it is, Jayden. I've spent my whole life wanting to be a huntress, I've trained, and studied, and I'm good at what I do. Not just good, I'm one of the best, maybe even the best. You say that this doesn't have to be my life, but it is. I'm actively choosing this. I'm not misguided, I know exactly where I'm going," she retorts.
"There's more to life than just fighting!" he yells.
"Then why are you fighting me on this?!" she yells back.
"Because I care about you!"
"If you cared you would be supporting me, be the wind in my wings and not the blade trying to clip the," she hisses at him.
"I'm not trying to clip your wings, Maria, I'm trying to save you," he tries to reason with her.
"I don't need saving!" she snaps at him. "Why can't you see that I'm perfectly capable? Why can't you see that I'm not a little girl anymore? I'm twenty-eight, I'm an adult and have been for a decade. I may not have a husband or children, but that doesn't mean I'm not living a life worth living. I'm fine just as I am, and I don't. Need. You."
"You're too stubborn to see that this is going to get you killed! I can't watch you do that to yourself! So why can't you just let me help you?!" he snaps at her, not even bothering to listen to her arguments.
"FINE THEN! I'M OUT!" she yells.
He shrinks back and she stalks around the room grabbing her meagre things and throwing them into a suitcase.
When she goes to leave the room, he blocks the way. "Where are you going to go?"
"Away from here. Anywhere. I don't need you trying to control me like you're my father. Well you're not, and Papá would have been supporting me, not trying to limit me. So. I. Am. Done. Get out of my way or I'll make you," she hisses dangerously.
Before he can say anything, his wife screams his name from down the hall.
"The baby's coming!"
He doesn't hesitate to go to her side and Maria waltzes out of the house unhindered. She doesn't stop to say goodbye to her nieces, nor does she say anything to her labouring sister-in-law. She casts one last look at the painting of her parents in the main hall before she's out of the house at last.
She doesn't stop as she walks through the town, making a beeline for the gate and the desert beyond.
"From life comes death, from death comes life. The eternal cycle of rebirth, though no life is the same. We mourn the loss of a life unique, the loss of someone who has touched us, irrevocably changed us," Rosa chants and Oscar and Mercury take up positions at the ends of the wooden cradle.
"We take within us the legacy left behind, so long as we live and draw breath, she shall live on through us. We take within us her memory so that we can leave behind the beginnings of new life sown in the ashes of destruction and watered by the tears of the mourning."
Rosa lowers the flames to the wood, and they catch alight. Oscar and Mercury follow her lead and all three back away as the fire dust hidden in the branches ignites and Maria's remains burn with all the intensity that she lived her life with.
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she watches her Abuela, her teacher, the woman who raised her, who took her in and loved her, burn.
She decides that she hates fire.
"I HATE YOU!" Plata yells at her mother even as she holds one of the woman's scythes.
"Plata," Maria tries to reason, reaching out.
"NO! You are a selfish, bitter, stubborn, AWFUL woman, and I HATE you!" Plata screams.
"I don't understand, what did I do wrong?" Maria asks, begging her daughter to stay.
"What did you do wrong?" the young woman barks out a laugh. "What didn't you do wrong? You couldn't accept that you failed as a huntress, so you pushed your ambitions onto me. You treated me like a mindless doll to pull the strings of and live through, but I'm not. I don't want to fight. I'm not interested. I want to do anything but fight. Everything you've ever done though has been to try and make me achieve your dream, your ambitions."
Plata laughs harshly. "It's all 'Plata, pay attention to your Spanish, it's the language of our family' when you've never taken me to Spain or let me meet that so-called family; 'Plata, you need to get better at meditating so that you can call upon your eyes in battle' when I don't want to fight in battle or use my stupid eyes that have only put a target on my back that I don't want; Plata do this, Plata do that, Plata Plata, Plata. Even my freaking name is just a testament to how much you just see me as a way to achieve your own dreams."
"That wasn't my intention, Plata, I-"
"It may not have been your intention, but it's the truth," Plata spits out. "I hate you and your controlling ways and I'm. Done."
"What do you mean? Plata?" Maria begs.
"It means I'm. Done." With a quick movement, Plata brings the wooden staff of the scythe down, snapping it over her knee.
With that, Plata drops the broken scythe and turns on her heel and storms into her room, picks up a suitcase, and then storms out of the caravan and into the night.
Maria just sinks into her chair, shock seeping into her bones.
Is this how Jayden felt when she left?
Did her words cut him as deeply as Plata's had done to her.
Is this the sort of mother her father would be proud of?
Would he be proud of her at all?
If she could cry, she would.
She made a mistake, and she never noticed.
And now she can never take it back. Never make it right.
The flames die down and Rosa speaks one more time.
"We have remembered, and we have mourned. We will always remember and mourn, but it is important to celebrate a life well lived. To celebrate the connections we share through this commonality. I call on you to celebrate life in all its forms, to celebrate the memories of the past, for it is through the celebration of memories that the dead live on through us."
She waits until everyone has left before scooping up a small vial of ash and hanging it on a cord around her neck.
For the first time in her life, she has to go forward without her Abuela as her guiding light.
She finally feels the last vestiges of childhood – vestiges she never noticed before but she is now only all too aware of – fall away.
Life will never be the same again.
A/N: Welcome back to the Grimm Reaper! Hope you enjoyed this chapter (gonna be honest, nearly cried re-reading it after probably two months not looking at it, but I also have a bunch of things going on in life making me emotional because the drama never stops here apparently. Everyone's okay and out of hospital now, but emotions are still running high (and I managed to rip a hole in my tire somehow yesterday which shook me up as well) so not surprising that I nearly cried to be honest).
Um... yeah, this chapter was the final goodbye to Maria, and looks back on her life, showing the things that Rosa and Oscar wouldn't have known about, that Maria wasn't a good mother, just how things ended with her brother, what her family situation was, and so on, because where else am I supposed to put that stuff? Also, I'm aware that the age gap between her parents is weird (consults notes), there was a 16 year age-gap between her parents, but they would have met and gotten married when her mother was already in her 30s, so its less weird.
Anyways, this is going to be the last chapter for a while. I'm putting this fic on hiatus until the end of volume 8. This is to give me time to continue writing what I have planned for volume 7 and edit it, while deciding how much volume 8 I want to add in. I am NOT abandoning this fic, there is zero chance of that happening. Feel free to PM me for a chat or to give predictions of what you think might happen next, or even leave a review. They all make my day so much brighter (not that I really need brighter going into summer where I am, I already have sunburn, but it is appreciated all the same). Otherwise, I'll see you guys on the other side of Volume 8.
- RebeccaMagic9