Burial beneath the Boughs

20th of Camince, 1485
 
It is done.
 
There is something poetically final about burials beneath the great trees… Maybe it was today that I was waiting for, for as I write this, Filandrel’s death feels unbearably final. The funeral was today, I suppose I should have begun this entry with that, although I’m sure that the context was clear…
 
I was invited to the palace for the ceremony. Prince Oberon personally sent for me, to ensure that I would not miss the funeral. I think that he wanted me to see that he was upholding his agreement for Filandrel to receive a proper burial… not that I expected anything less, especially considering their blood relation.
 
Grimaldus and my parents were in attendance, along with thousands of our people, all come to pay their respects. I stood there, feeling like my heart was crumbling, as I stood in what would have been Filandrel’s assigned position for such formal events. I stood in his place, wearing his robes. I debated it this morning, but in the end, and after encouragement from my parents, I decided that it would be best. It is what Filandrel would have wanted.
 
I know to Grimaldus it must seem strange, the ceremony to honor one who ultimately betrayed all of us, but, how do I explain it to him? How can I begin to explain the great loss to our entire people that comes from his passing? I was angry at Filandrel, I will likely be angry again, but right now, I am in pain.
 
I stood there, watching everyone file by, catching the covert glances cast my way, people wondering, but being too polite to question. I saw many faces I recognized, survivors of the Union War, and others, students who I’d known in Egig Ero Fa… and many more I’d never seen before. Some, I had heard of, but after a while, all of the faces blurred together in a formless sea.
 
I felt like an imposter, I didn’t belong in this place, so close to the prince… I should have been one of those passing by, paying my respects, like the others whom he’d taught. But no, I stood there, my face an expressionless mask, as I tried to conceal all of the roiling emotions inside. I wanted to rage and scream. I wanted to lash out at everyone around me for never realizing that Filandrel was playing us all… I wanted to run off into the woods, curl up into a ball, and cry until my eyes could make no more tears.
But, I did none of that. I stood stoically, watching the countless elves file past for what felt like an eternity, my face a mask Filandrel would have been proud of.
 
Finally, after the last visitors had paid their respects, Filandrel’s body was taken down to the base of the great tree in Alcarin… There, he was laid to rest in a tomb made of boughs woven amid the roots of the tree.
 
I stood there, transfixed, as the druids sealed the tomb with entwining vines and roots. Rowan would have liked this… the thought came unbidden into my mind. She would have… this is the burial that Rowan should have gotten… but no, we didn’t even have her body when she went into the throne.
 
I don’t know how long I stood there, long after the druids had completed their task and gone. The last of the mourners were leaving, when I felt a hand come to rest on my shoulder. I glanced back, half expecting to see my father, but surprised to see Prince Oberon, his eyes filled with his own conflicted sorrow.
“Go, Inara.” He said gently. “Go home. Be with your family and loved ones… rest, and give yourself time to heal.”
I nodded, not trusting myself to answer further. The prince gripped my shoulder for a moment, then turned away to return to the palace. “We will speak again.” He said over his shoulder. “When you are ready…”
 
And so, I held my head high and made the long walk back home. I had to bite my lip a few times to focus myself, but I succeeded in maintaining my mask for the most part. By the time I reached my parents’ door, I felt numb again… detached. Like I was watching myself through a scrying mirror, going through the motions of walking home, going inside, and briefly speaking to Grimaldus and my parents. I know from past experience that this numbness will fade, but for now, I’ll welcome its embrace. I will pay the price for it later, but not today… today, I will welcome the feeling of floating on an ocean of numb detachment…