Morskaya laid down her crudely made shovel gently in the sweet smelling grass she so loved. Soft, pink cherry blossoms fell around her from the tree just above her as a small breeze tickled the tree's branches and downward to kiss her face. The setting sun cast a golden light across the world, and reflected off the bright headstone in front of her. Below it, a freshly dug grave lay at the base of the tree as well, beautiful sunny-yellow flowers laid upon it.
Morskaya knelt down slowly, clasping her hands together and closing her eyes, as she lowered her head and prayed for her mother. Dalar stood right behind her, hair blowing in the wind; scars across his face, neck and arms from their clean-up battle in the village as he had protected the young immobile girl from what remained of the demons.
Now, he didn't know what to do as he stood there watching her. There was nothing he could do to help her now. Only time would heal the wounds inside her and he could only look on helplessly, tears running down his face unchecked, as the girl cried hopelessly, mourning for the lost soul of her mother, the kindest woman she had ever known, and for the people of her village, the only family and home she had ever known.
