Pact
He was old, and he was tired. He had stopped counting his years when his grandson was born, though he clearly remembered the boy's age and birthdate, along with those of the boy's younger brothers and sisters. His youngest daughter's children, though over the years he had lost track of the rest of his progeny. He remembered them all, and sometimes they wrote him letters, but he could not have found them if he tried.
He lived with them, his youngest and her family, although mostly he lived alone in his bedroom. In a house he had helped his son-in-law build, so many years prior. He was old, not feeble, and mostly tired these days. He was content with his memories and his pride in his grandchildren.
The day came when he was awakened by the dog barking, and the commotion in the house. He sat quietly in his old chair, which felt more comfortable than usual, and remembered the old days, when he was young and terrified. He looked sternly to the shadows, and called softly, "I know you're there."
The woman appeared, pale and beautiful and full of the blush of youth. He remembered her. She was not one of his grandchildren, but he smiled as if she were, "There, now, you see? You don't need to fear this old man."
"No fear, sir, only respect."
"Yes, yes," he chuckled, "You know all my stories already. And there's nothing my old body can do for you, I suspect. Nothing of worth here for you and your kind, not anymore."
The woman shook her head, "All that is done, Grandfather, all that which would have mattered."
She knelt by his chair, much like his grandchildren, "I'm here as a messenger of the world. A guide, a friend in dark times. They are coming..."
"I know. I hear it."
"Then please, Grandfather, come with me. For old times, let me keep you," she was afraid. Downstairs, the dog was howling, and the baby was wailing. There was shouting, and someone was running on the stairs. In the midst of the chaos, his was a calm patience. He held out his hand at the end of the armrest, and the woman took it gently. He smiled with all the courage in the world.
"What is your name?"
---
"Gran'pa? Come on, we gotta go."
Even in the midst of an emergency, Gray could only speak to his most dignified kin with reverence. The old man looked to him, eyes bright with long lost youth. He smiled as the boy knelt, anxious and worried, by his chair.
"Yes," he agreed quietly, "You should go and help your mother with Silvia, the poor girl, this can't be at all good for her."
"I'm tired," the old man leaned back and closed his eyes comfortably. As an afterthought, he mumbled "Take care of my grandchildren."
"Gran'pa?" Gray was getting agitated. He was scared, he wanted to go, but he did not want to leave his grandfather. The old man's hand was lifeless, cold, and Gray stayed a minute more. There was ice in his heart, and all around him, but he couldn't stay. He had to run; he had to help his mother with the baby.
The End
Working Title: Pact
Inspiration: The desire to write a Halloween fic.
Noteworthy: First appearance - Gray's grandfather. Influential man, he is.
Disambiguation: There's backstory to this one, too. May be expounded upon in Penumbra, in which it is directly important.
Series: Pact; Shadow; Penumbra; Umbra; Aurora
Derivative work of material © Square Pictures, Squaresoft. Reformatted to abide by 'site standards. None of the original text has been modified, 'cept in case of typo.