Finally, they managed to gather their thoughts enough to regain some composure, and they straightened up in an attempt to bolster their spirits. As Meea dried her eyes on her sleeve, she turned to Timirza. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice still trembling.
The cheetah gave her a tender nuzzle. “Don’t mention it.”
Matakh felt a faint warmth blossom in his chest as he watched, and he smiled at Shartha. “Thanks, buddy. We’re lucky to have you as friends.” He sighed and turned to Pastor Damios. “Well, I guess we can start now.”
The puma nodded, taking his place at the head of the grave across from the four teens before opening his Bible. Clearing his throat, he began to read. “In the Book of Genesis, God declared to Adam and Eve ‘from dust you were taken, and so to dust you shall return.’ We feel this even today. All of us have felt the pain of this curse, the curse of death. It surrounds us all, hanging over us like a dread veil.”
“But there is hope. ‘For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten son, that whoever believes in Him shall not die, but attain everlasting life. John 3:16.’ Oh Lord, we rest in this promise of life after death for those who have accepted You as their Lord and Savior.
“Father, we come together to mourn the passing of Your son, Kotaho Etari, and Your daughter, Linalia Etari, husband and wife joined in Your Name, father and mother blessed by Your fruitful Hand. Oh Lord, that we need gather is in itself a bitter fate, for their lives were still young, and they had many years laid out before them. We can only wonder why this has happened, but we can still find hope in Your promise of salvation. Kotaho and Linalia accepted Your grace and forgiveness in the form of Your Son, Jesus Christ. They lived for You, following where You led, and they raised their children with the love and care You showed us. And while their lives on this earth have ended, we know that they are in their true home with You.
“Father, we pray now for Your strength and guidance as we cope with their passing. Strengthen their children, Lord, and give all of us the peace and understanding to continue on. Let us forge ahead, comforted in the knowledge that our loved ones are in a better place. Help us to remember that Your love goes with us, and that one day we will meet our lost again.
“So now, I lay this blessing unto you who have gathered here. May the Lord bless you. May the Lord keep you. May the Lord be gracious unto each and every one of you. Go in His peace, His love, and the promise of His mercy today, tomorrow, and forever more, and may He guide your way as you strive forward. Amen.”
The simple ceremony finished, the solemn party began the lengthy process of shoveling the earth back into place, slowly covering the bodies of the dead. Matakh felt a brooding darkness well up inside of him once more, growing steadily with each passing moment. Each shovelful of dirt that returned to the pit seemed to hurt worse than the last. A harsh realization suddenly hit him; as he buried his parents, he buried his old life with them. With every inch the grave was filled, he felt it all grow farther and farther away, and no matter how much he might wish it he could do nothing to take back what had happened. His whole world was collapsing, and he felt powerless to stop it.
It was a moment before he realized that everyone else had grown still, the grave now completely refilled. Meea had moved the stone cross from the ruins of the garden and placed it at the head of the site, a marker of sorts. He felt tears running down his cheeks once more, but resisted the urge to wipe them away. He didn’t see the point; more would simply take their place. “Let them fall,’ he thought bitterly to himself. ‘Why bother?’ He clenched his fists so hard that his nails bit into his palms, but the sharp stabs of pain barely registered. What did that matter when it felt like his soul was withering away?
As he watched, Meea stepped forward and placed a shaking hand on the cross. Tears fell from her eyes, staining the soil beneath her. “I’ll miss you, Mom… Dad...” she whispered quietly. “But I’ll try to be strong. And I know that one day I’ll be with you again. Thanks for being there for me when I needed you. I love you.” As the final words left her, her shoulders began to shake as she cried, and Timirza gently helped her to her feet.
As soon as his sister had finished, Matakh stepped over and knelt before the cross, pressing his forehead to the cold stone. He did not weep, and the tears had ceased to flow. Instead, his face had taken on a steely countenance, and his eyes were dark and focused. “Be at peace with the Lord,” he thought. “And don’t worry about us. I will watch over us both now, I swear it. I will protect Meea and myself, so help me God.’
Throughout the proceedings, no-one realized that they were being watched. From his hiding place behind a pile of rubble, a small fox had seen everything. He listened to the final sermon, offering his own prayer for the lost lives. When Meea’s voice had reached his ears, he had cried along with her. And as he prepared to leave, he sang a quiet song of mourning.
Ai litham nir ul, Jesuinn
To you I come, my Jesus
Bless and keep the dead
Guard and hold the living
Until the day all ends
And all new things begin
Then without another word, he retreated once more into the shadows of the alleyways.
Chapter Six: Picking Up the Pieces
With the simple funeral concluded, Reverend Damios turned to Matakh and Meea. “So what will you two do now? I know you don’t have any other living relatives beyond your grandmother, and seeing as how she’s in a home that’s hardly an option. So will you seek out friends, or head to one of the shelters?” He gestured to the ruins of their home. “You know you can’t stay here.”
Matakh sighed. “I know, but we never really planned for something like this. I’m still reeling to catch up with everything. I’m not sure any of our friends would be in a position to take us in after all of this.”
Damios nodded. “I understand. In that case, I’d suggest heading to the Thornpeal Building. A shelter has already been established there for those who have lost their homes, and I’m actually one of the board members.”
“That’s where we’re staying, too,” Timirza offered. “We could at least have each other.”
“Either way,” Damios continued, “it’s definitely unwise for you to remain here, and I’d hate to see you out on the street. You should gather what belongings you can carry and get to the shelter as quickly as you can.”
He shook his head and looked towards the skyline of Tuthana. While it had once been among the most beautiful cities in the S’Herrin Territory, now the sky was clogged with smoke from countless fires, and the wailing of emergency sirens hung heavy in the air. “I fear that we are soon to see darker days than this. Distrust is taking hold of many people. Already those of different races have begun to doubt the intentions of others, even their closest friends.”
“But if we can’t trust our friends, who can we trust?” Meea interjected.
Damios gave a weary smile. “We must trust in the Lord, and in those we feel have earned our faith. Hold tightly to your friends, for only with unity will you be able to weather the storm of this war.”
The Reverend walked over and retrieved his hat from a nearby fencepost where he had hung it. Dusting it off and placing it on his head, he turned to the children. “Now I must be off. There are many more in need of aid, and in need of prayer. I hope we meet again. Farewell.” With that, he opened the door to his car, which had been hovering at the street’s edge, and drove out of sight.
When the car had disappeared, Meea turned to face her brother. “So are we going