Grieving in silence... the mourning monument at which the little boy stared right now, right before the sun faded away in darkness of sparkling stars, being replaced by a cold moon, as part of his everyday activity remembering something he did not take a fancy to forget, even by any means he would, he simply couldn't, for someone resting the everlasting rest beneath the warm soil mounding those piles of fragrance that had prepared by the little boy... meaning that someone was more than an important figure to him and his life - someone who saved his life and the rest of residents. Regarded as a hero by any means and anyone. Therefore having quite a special place inside the rescued souls the hero was, building such a simple mourning memorial, nothing extraordinary to be praised, yet holding quite significant value for anyone who valued it, remembering the bitter sugar sacrifice.
The mourning monument... It was simply a small grave with a carved white gravestone with the name of she who was in eternal rest - Gisalda Everbloom. The carving name, bearing quite memories despite her body had been buried few feet beneath the cold surface, far from the chilling breeze passing by the mound... leaving only the warmth inside the preserving embrace of the Mother Nature, and thus her memories remained ceaselessly inside the warm heart of loved ones also.
Fixing his gaze, lowering his face and bowing his head, the deep black haired boy became too focused on the core of the present. As he was standing alone on seemingly secluded place in a village that was remote enough already to be noticed by the outsiders eyes leering and peering inside... seemingly this land that was less grassy green and more flowery white the mourning color, as a means to preserve the solemn solitude - a place of fulfillment to vent the longing.
And there the little boy was, longing solemnly in silence bereft of sound of himself but a sound of subtle flow of an aeolian blow from warm air bathed in the last sunlight for today, as the orange began to flood the final resting place with its soft red of the dusk. Amongst the others mourning monuments, only his black stare that found its own way towards one certain feeling for his recently passed away sister... departed from this world while protecting the others. And his intention to visit such a quiet place, besides to carry out his newly habit of everyday routine, he simply wanted to tell his older sister a miraculous tale that seemingly came out from the children's fantasy books that of happy ending ever after... that her sacrifice was not in vain, therefore her dreams and hopes would always be lived up for by the others who were still preserving the oxygen coming in and out their lungs, hence forget they would not.
'Si-- Sis Gisalda?!'
The very first spoken word the little boy voiced in silence yet in startling manner because of an unannounced presence standing besides him that was supposed to be an empty space within this solitude moment. A solitude moment in which his little memories flowed abruptly without his permission, filling this seemingly lonely silent message for one who already had no shape in this physical world... yet as his word suggested, the longing heart and mind had been playing such a kindly trick on him. Perhaps it was because of the white garment, or maybe because the longing feeling was already at a point that cannot be detained that his unconsciousness deliberately projecting his deepest desire which was buried deep inside his little heart.
Either way, the prominent reality always found its way to wake him up... gently reviving his sense of reality that the figure he saw and knew was never meant to be exist any longer in this physical world, for the eternal resting place she already had.
"Ah... Erynew,"
There was a slight disappointment left, despite the little boy had accepted the bitter reality... knowing well that the figure whom he took a glimpse of was no longer had a definitive shape but a single stygian horn sticking out from her whitehead, breaking the illusion out of longing. As the name of which he had been brought up... the name he knew and familiar with, it was that one-horned devil who filled the empty space besides him, diminishing the solitude with her presence, with her seemingly fresh appearance right after her little bathing time.
No longer was the ragged fabric, a tattered cloth covering the smooth yet seemed pale skin of that one-horned devil, but a simple yet seemed to be soft yarn in white hue... color of the snow swathing the pale skin thus giving birth to this fine garment. This sleeveless white garment, emphasizing its appealing charm through besides the beautiful simplicity in all of the eyesight upon gazing and widening one's eyes only to receive its splash of beauty, yet it was more on the person wearing it... a person who swathed inside of its captivating embrace. From the elegant halter neck that gently wrapped around the thin neck of the one-horned devil, connected down to her chest adorned with a pair of small curves yet seemingly pleasing to one's eyes upon looking at them - quite a desirable attribute for a feminine creature to have above that slender belly and waist. With such an attire, being sleeveless thus being able to reveal her slender arms and shoulder... exposing yet again the pale skin to the open air despite at this kind of season, likewise the lower part of the white garment which was preferring its form as a loose skirt lengthened no more beyond the knees, allowing the lower limbs of the wearer to move freely hence easy mobility.
And fastened together, that white sleeveless attire and short loose skirt alike, with another piece of fabric. It was long and wide enough to wrap several layers on the waist, playing a simple role as a belt to tie the two different pieces together, for they were complement one another as a whole set of dress that was designed and woven by herself... she who liked a hard-working activity under the bright sun, who loved her people and family alike, and more than willing to die while protecting it - a simple place where contentment could thrive into one big happiness.
"Oh, did I somehow startle you, Gizado?" Erynew, the one-horned devil took the initiative to lead the chatting with a whispered chortle after quite a while the solemn solitude was reigned, thus asking such a query after noticing the unusual look on the little boy's face, "It's my bad for sneaking to your side by the way. I saw you going intimate with your silent prayer that I felt bad to interrupt. Did I interrupt you?"
Seemingly had just return from his wandering thought, staring deeply at such an alluring presence besides him, making the little boy remembered something sweet in her bitter little memories as the result... Gizado quickly nodded once, "Yeah, ah I mean no, but yes..." a little stammered he answered with, as his sense of present slowly regained itself inside his mind, "Yes, you did startle me, and no, Erynew... no... you are being here is not interrupt my time, really... ahahaha~" therefore covering it with a whispered giggle became his next move to lessen the concealed struggle, and smiled a warming one he was then, "It's just... I was just thinking about how suited you are when wearing that dress. You looks like someone I know. You remind me of her."
Erynew took a little rest, letting the quiet noise of the wind doing its simple task of keeping the flow steady as she was too having a little thought of her own inside the quite mind, at least knowing the cause of that look the little boy showed to her, "Because it is hers, right?" Erynew averted her gaze, staring at the carved white gravestone mostly to that carved name,
"Was. It is yours now." bereft of hesitation, the little boy quickly rectified the terms spoken by that one-horned devil, confirming the current possession of that dress, "Because as I said before, I've given that to you. My father agreed with me, and I'm quite sure Sis Gisalda would as well. After all, I heard that you'd go to the city, therefore I cannot just let you entering the city with that shabby dress of yours. Even we are as peasants, we have our own dress eti...ethie... ethiq? What is it called again?"
"Dressing etiquette." two correct words had been spoken. Erynew gladly gave a new terms for that little boy who seemingly was eager to explain his reason.
"I know the words, Erynew, if you just let me remember it! Reya has taught me." the typical arrogance of a child, childishly denying his own flaw out of the number he had in his age, and despite one's age was nothing but a number moreover the little boy was still in his learning stage... thinking it was merely a normal retort, Erynew simply put a welcoming smile for such a response, and gave a bit of a chuckle,
"Rrright... you do know the words."
And letting the flow of current lighthearted chatting went on with its supposedly intent to find a little composure after commotion... for the sake of the both sides – the little boy and the one-horned devil alike.
"Anyways... it is dressing etiquette that I meant to say," resuming his revised statement, the little boy turned his head staring deeply once again toward that one-horned devil as he was about to convey the true reasoning behind all of this, "And you are wrong about one thing, Erynew... it's not that dress you wear that reminds me of her, my older sister. It is you... because you remind me of her, thus I gave it to you."
The little boy's true reason, one reason behind this seemingly insignificant present yet for Gizado, the little boy, it was everything... as a hope to keep his sister's legacy always be remembered, at least not by the world but so that her eyes through this simple attire, were capable of seeing the whole world, all with its beauty and cruelty.
Listening to the little boy's true feeling, Erynew had no choice but to remain silent for the time being, as she noticed that there were bound to be more words he had yet to tell therefore would like to convey,
"Even though you, and my older sister have different face, eyes, hair color and especially with that horn... but in my eyes, your courage, unafraid of death, seems like your life is worth less than others... stubbornness... all of those really resemble her oddity." turning his head once more, Gizado stared at the carved name on that white gravestone again with his brown pair of eyes, "The fact that you also have the same body size as my older sister, it amazes me actually... haha... I noticed it when I saw your back, when you were protecting us from that blast... for a second, it was similar to that one back that protected me. I don't really remember from what at that time, but I remember that there was a deep stab wound of a sword on that back. There was so much blood on the ground, flooded the ground, turned its black into red... especially on that one back. But strangely, she kept her smile that tried to comfort me, and worried about me instead of herself. Just like you."
It was such an unexpected turn. The alteration of the sound of the wind, the direction of the breeze, and the temperature of air. Completely different from what Erynew experienced before by the river. It was still the same as the lighthearted chatting she relished upon, yet by standing in here that was supposed to be the lasting resting place for humans... the peaceful space within the aeolian whisper hitting the soft obstacle of flowers and white petals, was entirely new experience for her.
Or it was all perhaps, simply because of the direction to where it led to, this spoken feeling... valiantly poured all of this.
"Therefore I'm hoping that you'd like it - a small gift for you. Because I thought it would suit your, and now I know that I am right... always right. After all, I can't really stand to see one of her favorite dress slowly getting dusty in the dark and damp corner of the closet. I'd rather see it getting dusty under the bright sky in some of the adventures you will partake."
Warmly smiling once he turned his head for that one-horned devil, in order to achieve a better view of her facial expression upon listening to his poured feeling more than than a simple reason.
It was a silence still however... still the same aeolian whisper rattling the flower stalk, and with its gentle caress fondling the white petals. Had yet any response nor any spoken word coming from the rosy lips of the one-horned devil, as her mind was on a verge of comprehending yet another humans sentiment... accepting her despite her born nature. No matter how much the devil had come to aid, seemingly with no a slight suspicion nor uncertainty in a way that these humans conveyed their profound gratitude for such a creature. And now, upon listening to such a saddening story, the one-horned devil understood the why wonderment in it...
"If you found it difficult to accept, you can consider it as a reward from the chief himself, for helping us kicking those butts," the little boy carried on with his statement to convince that one-horned devil accepting his small gift, with a bit of allegory, "Because I've been told that owing something to the devil is not really a good thing."