[Third POV]
It was a very melancholy afternoon. The sky was an unblemished blue, yet it was oppressive and insufferable. The usual hustle and bustle of the Royal Capital had disappeared, leaving a profound, unsettling silence that seemed to echo through the streets. All because today was the day of Himmel's funeral, and the city's stillness felt like a heavy shroud of grief.
clang... clang... clang...
The mournful toll of the church bell resonated through the air, each strike reverberating with a grieving weight that seemed to deepen the gloom. Residents of all ages gathered in rows, their faces etched with sorrow, to honor the hero who had once protected humanity from the demonic forces that threatened its existence.
In front of the grieving crowd lay the casket of the fallen warrior. His deceased body rested peacefully within a bed of flowers, each blooming a silent testament to his influence on the people he had saved.
Next to it stood four individuals with close ties to Himmel. First was Eisen, who maintained a stoic demeanor. Beside him was Heiter, wearing a white priest attire. Then there was Frieren, holding Stelle in her arms. And lastly was Siegfried, who was silent and depressed, lost in his own grief while holding his father's sword.
"Isn't that the elf mage of the hero's party?"
"Why isn't she grieving like that man beside her?"
"Yeah, he's just entertaining that infant."
Murmurs of dissatisfaction resonated through the crowd. They were directed at Frieren, who seemed unfazed by her husband's death, and her attention was solely on the newborn child she was holding. Heiter and Eisen noticed this and tried to divert the people's attention.
"Oh my, but we're not upset either," the priest commented while he and the dwarf gestured at themselves. This only angered the people, leading them to hurl objects at the two men.
"Do your job properly, priest!"
"You shouldn't disrespect the dead!"
As the crowd's frustration boiled over, Siegfried remained silent and downcast. His eyes were vacant, and he kept clinging to his father's sword, saying nothing amidst the simple chaos.
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Once the crowd's turmoil subsided, the funeral continued its solemn pace. One by one, the mourners approached the casket, gently laying flowers atop the bed of blooms surrounding Himmel. The air was dense with reverence as each person paid their respects.
Soon after, pallbearers stepped forward to raise the casket. The crowd, along with Siegfried and his group, followed the men in silence as Himmel was carried toward the graveyard.
As the coffin was being lowered to the ground, the despairing half-elf looked to his side and saw Frieren wasn't paying attention. She was just nonchalantly playing with the newborn in her arm, which upsets Siegfried slightly.
"Mom..." he called out, trying to get his mother's attention.
The elf mage eventually heard her name being mentioned and replied, "Yes, what is it?"
"Be honest with me... Do you love Dad?" Siegfried asked firmly.
Frieren was taken aback by her son's sudden question. She wasn't expecting to be asked by something so profound, prompting her to contemplate.
"Love... What a peculiar term," the elf mage replied thoughtfully. "If you ask me, I don't know how to explain my relationship with your father."
"What do you mean?" Siegfried pressed, furrowing his eyebrows.
Looking at Himmel's casket being buried, Frieren answered, "There's something wrong about how I felt ever since your father confessed his love 50 years ago. It was as though a bizarre force urging me to reciprocate, to fulfill some unspoken responsibility."
As Siegfried listened, he began to realize that his mother's behavior might be tied to the wish he made before his birth. The guilt weighed heavily on him, and he struggled to find the right words to explain the situation.
"Mom, I—"
"Actually, now that I think about it, I do love your father," Frieren interrupted, her eyes welling with tears. "Yet I was too late to acknowledge it now that he's gone."
As the tears rolled down the elf's cheeks, they fell on Stelle's face, disturbing her sleep. This caused her to cry, which caught Frieren's attention, staring at the infant for a moment before widening her eyes in realization.
"Ah, I see," Frieren murmured, pacifying the crying Stelle. "So, this is what he meant."
"Mom, what are you talking about?" Siegfried asked, narrowing his eyes in confusion.
The elf mage turned towards his son and explained, "The day before your father's death, he told me to cherish his last gift and I'll understand what family truly means."
Siegfried, hearing his mother's explanation, looked down at the sword he was clutching and recalled his father's parting words about choosing one's own path and assuming the role of the hero, recognizing its profound significance.
As the two elves mulled over their thoughts, someone gently placed a hand on them—one on Frieren's head and another on Siegfried's back. They looked to their sides and saw Eisen and Heiter, offering comfort.
"Don't touch my head," Frieren protested, swatting their hands away.
Meanwhile, Siegfried didn't mind the gesture, allowing them to continue.
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When the whole event was over, and the people of the Royal Capital returned to their daily lives, Siegfried and his group lingered at the outskirts of the city.
"Well, I'll be going back to the Holy City," Heiter announced as he approached a horse-drawn carriage. "But before that, let me see all your faces really quick."
"Why? It's not like this is the last time we'll see each other, Sir Heiter," Siegfried remarked.
The old priest laughed awkwardly as he retorted, "Well, kinda. All of that drinking is probably catching up to me."
"Must be a divine punishment for you," Eisen reprimanded stoically.
Heiter laughed heartily at the dwarf's light rebuke before he turned towards Frieren and the offspring she was carrying. The priest smiled gently and blessed Stelle's head.
"Take good care of your child, Frieren," he reminded. "Himmel entrusted this responsibility to you from here on out."
"I know," the elf mage recognized, glancing down at Stelle, who had been asleep peacefully in her arms.
As Siegfried watched the exchange, he felt a mixture of gratitude and sadness. He was very thankful for Heiter's empathy but couldn't shake the feeling of loss that had settled over him like a shadow.
"Take care, Siegfried," Heiter affirmed next, patting the half-elf's shoulder. "Your father was very proud of you."
Siegfried nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Thank you, Sir Heiter. If you need anything, we'll gladly come to help."
"That would be great," the priest accepted the offer as he climbed into the carriage. "Also, if you guys were to visit the Holy City, don't forget to bring booze to my grave."
Hearing those remarks, Frieren furrowed her brow. Those words contained so many red flags that she had no choice but to address them.
"Heiter, are you not afraid of dying?" she suddenly asked.
The priest, glancing back, smiled wearily and replied, "We're the party of heroes who saved the world, so it's natural for us to live in luxury in heaven after we die. Besides, that was the reason I fought alongside all of you."
You corrupt priest," Frieren rebuked nonchalantly.
Heiter chuckled awkwardly in response. "Well then, I will be going first."
With that, the carriage began to move away from the group and towards the distance. As it disappeared from view, Siegfried and Frieren faced Eisen, who was ready to leave next.
"Alright, time to go now," the elf mage declared casually.
The dwarf nodded stoically. "Are you going to settle down and take care of your young?"
"That's right, it doesn't take that long for one to mature," Frieren replied, glancing at her son.
Eisen noticed her gaze and understood what she meant. For them, several years of parenting wasn't a problem due to their longevity.
"What are you going to do now, Sir Eisen?" Siegfried asked curiously.
The dwarf turned his attention to the half-elf. "I'm returning to Bredt Region."
Siegfried nodded understandingly. "Great, but if you need—"
"I know, you said the same thing earlier," Eisen interrupted, ceasing the repetition.
The half-elf scratched the back of his head as he beamed awkwardly. After that, the dwarf began to walk away from them before glancing back.
"I haven't said this to your father, but I respected his judgment," Eisen admitted gruffly. "Keep that sword safe, Siegfried. It carries not only just steel but also his warrior spirit."
Siegfried looked at the sword in his hands, feeling its weight more keenly. "I will, Sir Eisen."
With a nod, the dwarf continued his departure, leaving the two remaining people standing under the afternoon sky.
As they watched Eisen's silhouette fade into the distance, Frieren redirected her gaze to her son. "We should head home too."
"Yeah," Siegfried agreed, his voice carrying a hint of resolve. "Home sounds nice."
The two elves turned back toward the creak, with Stelle sleeping soundly in Frieren's arms and Himmel's sword resting firmly in Siegfried's grip. The current event weighed heavily on them, but with given time, they would move on carrying the hero's inheritance.