The Youngest Mage [Completed]

(18) A Death

When Dalbreath and Deearo came running into the sun room where Maurinn often sat with Fieatra talking of everything under the sun, they found Mr. Nunn and Bekma there too, all looking very sad and serious. "Where have you been?" asked Maurinn painfully. "We gave up looking for you. I told you not to leave the garden." There was real anguish in her voice."

"We didn't," said Deearo, before Dalbreath could say something that would give them away. "We were in the blackberry patch talking to Ontiwa. Did you know he raids your berries, Mrs. Nunn?"

"Deearo," said Bekma sadly, "there has been an accident. Your father was killed. We're so sorry."

Deearo was stunned, and even turned white with fear and pain. I haven't seen him in a couple of days. You said it would be okay to sleep over here, Bekma. My Da is dead? How could that be? He's as strong as an ox. Nobody messes with my Da."

Mr. Nunn spoke up then. "He was cutting down that old dead oak on the north section of your property, since it finally died last year. We suspect he was tired of it taking up so much room. He said it was so ugly since it died. Business has been good for him of late. The tree fell the wrong way and crushed him, Leanha told us. She was the one who found him. He was the best of the best men in Sylnaberneath. So sorry Deearo. We all are."

Deearo sat down on the floor with his hands on his forehead and began sobbing. Dalbreath sat down next to him and began patting him on the back. "Sorry, so sorry," he kept saying over and over again.

After ten long silent moments Deearo looked up and said, "I want to see the tree and the saw. No way my Da cut a tree the wrong way."

"I can take you," said Bekma.

"Leanha found him?" asked Deearo.

"He had already passed when she found him," said Maurinn. "She's been working for your father, for free. There was nothing she could do for him. He was already gone."

"Can I come with you?" asked Dalbreath, eager to help.

"Better stay here," said Bekma. "Some things have to be done alone." Then he looked at Deearo. "Come we'll go there in one of my portals. I'll even leave you to see for yourself if you want."

Deearo got up from the floor and walked over to where Bekma stood apart from the rest. "I'm ready," he said as he stood next to Bekma.

Bekma rested his left arm on Deearo's shoulder, then whispered a word and made a gesture with his right hand and they disappeared in a puff of smoke that smelled like yew wood.
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They appeared near the giant oak. Deearo looked around for his Da, and finally found him under a massive branch. The branch lay across his chest, but his face was uncrushed.

Deearo knelt by his father. "Oh Da, what happened?" It was obvious his father had tried to outrun the falling tree, but had not made it. Bekma had a look around while Deearo cried over his Da.

Alias, Deearo's Da, was four hundred and thirty-eight years old, which was middle aged for one of the Fae. Deearo's mother had been Tilithneaa, and had died in childbirth, a rare thing for the Tilithneaa, or the Fae for that matter. He had a thick head of gray hair, his da, and bright silvery gray eyes that were bright and piercing when he laughed, which was often. Deearo sat next to his Da and remembered all the times he made people laugh, and how he had been a father and mother in many ways, even mending Deearo's clothes at night sometimes . Also he remembered how he did the cooking after working long days in the stables. "Who will take care of me now, Da?" he whispered.