Hunter's Moon

Chapter 33

Rain poured down from the grey sky, wrapping the crowd gathered in the cemetery under a cold and wet veil, forcing them under a sea of black umbrellas, matching their clothing – not so different from their everyday attire. Novices stood in strict lines in between the Magisters and Praeceptors from the left, the Excubitors to the right.

Léda's spine was strained. One could easily cut wood on her back at this point in time. Volkov was reading her speech, honouring the memory of Magister Dubicki but the words barely got to Léda. The humid, damp air made her cheeks clammy, her hair blown into her face by the cool wind.

Annie's arm was now free from the cast, her fingers clutching Léda's in a tight grip. She wasn't as shaken as Léda would expect; she just stood there with her thick red braid getting soaked by the water dripping down over her back from the umbrella.

A funeral... She's only been here for a little over 2 months and someone had already died. She'd never been to a funeral before but most likely this and the fact of someone losing their life were only new for her. A cold shiver ran over her before she felt Raiden's hand softly brushing hers. She didn't have to look at him to know his gaze was set straight ahead, just like everyone else's. It didn't matter of course, the small touch was enough to ground her before she could get too deep into her own head.

No one made a noise. The only thing to be heard was the cool breeze waving through the trees, chasing the dry red and bronze leaves off the branches and into the mud; into the mud where they were going to put the ashes of Magister Dubicki, as well.

The Magister had only passed away yesterday. Things moved with incredible speed around the Bastion, Léda noted. Of course, it shouldn't be all that surprising at a place where death was a frequent visitor. However, usually, death caught up with nephilims outside of the walls of the Bastion, out in the world where Maerors hunted them. They were supposed to be safe here. This was supposed to be their sanctuary.

The death of their Angel Seals Magister had a great impact on the entire Bastion. The usually loud and busy halls have become quiet. Everyone was muttering about the sudden and unexpected death of Dubicki. Most believed the official explanation, of course, that it was just an unfortunate accident that she'd stumbled in a stack of books. But there were just as wild gossips going around as sane ones. The most extremes were rumours about suicide and a Maeror attack. They went as far as claiming that Volkov had an agreement with the Principati to keep the truth hidden in order to avoid mass hysteria.

Léda, of course knew that all of these were nonsense. Dubicki certainly hadn't committed suicide, nor she'd been attacked by Maerors; there'd been more blood, more injuries on her if that had been the case – unless these Maerors had gone against their bloodthirsty nature in order to commit the perfect murder.

In her opinion though, if anything had killed the Magister, it had been the Book of Chayyliel, and the curse that followed it. Or maybe Raiden was right and there was no dark secret, no curse, nothing horrible but a freaky accident. After all, if the staircase leading up to their aedis collapsed under her, no one would scream "Curse!" either. Accidents happened.

The funeral was short and simple, almost impersonal. After the speech of Volkov, Uncle Jani placed the Ateratus container that had beautiful protecting seals carved into it to the ground with the ashes of Dubicki in it.

"May you find purpose in the Caelum," the collective voice of novices, Praeceptors, Excubitors and Magisters rang through Léda's bones. There was no mention of peace, no mention of rest but finding purpose. Did this mean there was no peace for their kind? Did this mean they went to Heaven or Caelum or however they liked calling it and kept fighting on? No rest for the wicked would get a whole new meaning if that was the case. With these last words the ceremony ended and people started walking away, quiet murmurs travelling across the crowd.

"Miss Rose," Uncle Jani called after her and she nodded to Annie and the rest of them that she'd catch up with them later. She found her way through the mass of people and stopped in front of him, still standing at the spot where the ashes of Dubicki had been placed into the ground. The wrinkles on his face looked deeper than before, his eyes were blank, a shovel in his hands. For a moment Léda wondered if she'd misjudged his age and he was closer to 70 than 50 or even 60.

"Can I help you with something?" She asked, glancing behind her, watching people moving backwards towards the main building while Mike and Annie stalled at the gates, waiting for her. She truly hoped he didn't want her to dig the grave. Léda couldn't say no but the last thing she wanted to do in that moment was anything related to death.

"Please, visit me later today," he said in a quiet voice as he pressed the shovel into the soaked ground, kicked the top of it firmly and lifted, throwing the soil onto the container. "Mariann left behind something for you." For a moment, Léda couldn't even place the name, it hadn't been something she'd often heard. Mariann Dubicki, Magister of Angels Seals.

"Did she?" She asked, her surprise only growing. She wouldn't have thought Magister Dubicki was the sort of person to think so much ahead, or to even think of her as the person to reach out to after her death. The Dativus only nodded as a response, covering the tiny hole with more soil. "What is it?"

"I don't know, Miss Rose. I haven't opened the box."

"Oh. All right." She nodded, wrinkling her nose as a drop of rain streamed down her face. What could it be? She was now praying that her heritage wasn't yet another cursed item. "I'll visit after my last training. Thank you for letting me know."