Celebrating the Dead [Invite]

[Alaric von der Marck]

WEARING

Alaric von der Marck often found himself visiting the graveyard that was attached to the von der Marck estate. It wasn’t because he was overly morbid, but because he recalled many of the dates that beloved members of his overlarge family had died. That, in itself, could be seen as morbid—except for the fact that many of them had lived full, happy lives. They’d married and had children. They’d been prosperous in their endeavours. Their lives were something to celebrate, not to mourn.

The elder was dressed casually as he meandered from the brightly lit house, down the path and through the copse of trees to the clearing on the other side. The graveyard wasn’t dark or overrun by weeds. It wasn’t lit, either, but nor was it some creepy scene out of a horror movie. The wilderness was kept at bay so that neither weed nor vine could touch the gravestones, which were all cleaned often and as immaculate as time would allow. Names were clearly etched into the stones, which were all similar though individual; it would not do his family justice to have every stone the same, as if they were all just nameless and faceless and liable to be forgotten.

There were plenty of stones that had been erected in Alaric’s absence from this life, but the tradition had continued. Near the front of the yard were the newer headstones. Toward the back were the older ones, and the mausoleums that held the bones of his sons and their wives.

The elder stopped in front of the last mausoleum. In sixteen-eighty, Ulrich had died at the age of seventy-seven which was, back then, a good age at which to die. He’d died only a week after his wife, their love had been so strong that those who survived them declared Ulrich had died of a broken heart.

Alaric paused before the door; he would not go in and disturb the peace the couple had found in their death. He would merely stand outside to remember their life, their contributions to this estate. They may not be world famous, but they still would never be forgotten.

[Aurelia]

It had been with her grandfather's death that Aurelia had rarely walked the family graveyard as frequently as she would as a child. The truth was something that she didn't like to admit, the idea that he would still be amongst the living something that hurt her heart every time she thought of it. The two had always been close, the former miner often taking it upon himself to make his uniquely different grandchild laugh. Esric Sr was the first one to realize that Aurelia had not been so normal, that she wasn't simply spacing out - that she was only seeing the unseen. He hadn't believed it at first, given that the girl had seemed to completely ignore him on occasion; conversations had been dropped midsentence as her blue eyes would focus on something else, but when she'd repeat what had been said, it became clear she was special.

The first ghost that Aurelia's grandfather had learned his grandchild had met was a little girl named Mathilda, not too much older than the living girl. It was with his help searching through records that they learned the child's fate. Typhoid fever had claimed her life in the late 1700's, a fact that would lead to a temporary fear of germs from Aurelia that would only cease at the age of thirteen. The revelation had been bittersweet as the spirit would be the first that she learned would occasionally know that she was not dead; the girl had insisted that she was different, her german more advanced than Aurelia's own, who had been still at the time learning - knowledgeable enough to hold small conversations.

Her grandfather had been helpful to break the news on multiple occasions before Aurelia would later entrust her odd ability to her sister, Arielle, and her cousin, Judah. But, it had been the other blonde, blue eyed von der Marck child that had always stuck close to Aurelia's heart - and the grounds of the estate, still unable to accept the truth of life after death.

Before her grandfather's passing, she had gone to deliver flowers to the graves of spirits had passed on regularly. Although there were many, she did not mind braving the influex of the deceased lingering around. After his death, however, she'd started taking her time and making excuses - something that she had been embarrassed to admit and had begun to hate as the anniversary of the man's death approached slowly and steadily. And so, one evening after work, pressing a kiss to Evangeline's lips with the promise to catch up with her later, the blonde had headed out to the family estate. The only pause she had made was to purchase a few dozens of freesia and lily bouquets - making sure a set of pink lily and red roses to her girlfriend as a surprise would be sent - before going to her destination.

The paths she'd always taken were not lost on Aurelia despite the years that had passed as she made her way to her grandfather's first, setting down the flowers as a shriek reached her ears. A woman in a blue dress was ignored as she silently said a prayer, pressing a kiss to her fingers once they were brought to her list before being set against his name on the cold stone. It was with habit that she began to tune out the noise, her gaze focusing on the engraved lettering. Beloved father, grandfather, and brother bringing a smile to her face as she stood, her long jacket hanging on her slender frame while she began to make her way towards the older portion of the graveyard.

"Papa?" A soft voice called out as she heard it, paying no mind to her surroundings as she headed towards another familiar grave. The name hadn't been worn out quite yet, but it was fading from sight despite the well kept grounds that had always made Aurelia proud of her family for. Even in death, they looked out for each other - they took care of their elders. Mathilda's intended resting place had been under a tree, a child's laughter ringing out as Aurelia remembered her first meeting with the restless spirit. She'd been running through the grassy areas and fallen over a branch. That soft laughter scaring at first before the weirdly dressed pale girl appeared. ""Hello Maddie." Aurelia said, the moisture of her breath visible in the cold, wintery weather as she set a few flowers down.

wearing

[Giselle]

Giselle closed the book she had been reading, having once more reached the end of the tale, and stood to put it back in its place on the shelf. The room was warm despite her presence in it and her lips quirked lightly to the side as she considered that her control over her powers was growing. It was either that or the cheerily burning fire in the fireplace was warding away any chill she may accidentally cast.

Her mind wandered as she looked at the rows of books. She wondered where Alaric was today, not having seen the Patriarch in a while. Knowing she could reach him mentally if she needed to didn't mean that she was comfortable with just reaching out to him out of the blue as it were... so maybe she was feeling a bit lonely. A shake of her head tossed her shiny light brown hair around her face as she chastized herself for lying. She was a lot lonely... but she didn't really know how to make it stop. Pushing people away was her defence... it was why she was alright with caring for Alaric. No matter how she missed her father or he reminded her of him, she wasn't going to lose him the same way. At least, she didn't think she ever could, him being a vampire and all.

Rolling her eyes at herself, she shook off the odd mood and stepped out into the hallway, determined to wander around until she found Alaric or something interesting enough drew her attention.

[Alaric von der Marck]

There wasn’t much that Alaric missed, and in the silence of the graveyard the barest sigh that was out of place would have his ears pricked. Alaric knew when Aurelia had entered the graveyard though he had not yet known who it was. Her movements were known to him even as he made his own peace, even as he recalled all the years he had shared with his son—and pondered all the years that he had lost. And even as he stood there reminiscing the past, his senses were open and not only to the extent of the graveyard. He was aware of the entire estate, his mental senses able to detect those at the house. He couldn’t know where they were, exactly, but knowing that they were there and staying mentally aware—he knew that Giselle was still up, that she was wandering around.

Closer, the footsteps came. Closer, until he heard the voice. Aurelia. Alaric muttered a goodbye in German before he turned, eyes narrowed as he sought the shape in the darkness. Through the gravestones he meandered until he stood near Aurelia.

”Who is Maddie?” he asked. He did not glance toward the house as he reached out to Giselle, his mind touched to hers. He was gentle when he spoke, so as not to startle her overly much. Telepathy could take some getting used to; even Alaric could be startled at times, when a voice broke through that was not his own, and which he had not expected.

”Aurelia and I are at the Graveyard. Do you wish to join us?” he asked the young girl. He had no idea about bed times or whether hers should be soon—but she was old enough, he presumed, to have a little freedom. And perhaps she could learn a little about her family’s history. Graveyards were not to be feared; they were to be revered as places of knowledge and of history.

[Giselle]

Light brown locks swayed as Giselle cocked her head to the side in response to Alaric's message via telepathy. She liked the way connecting with him made her feel, like there was warmth inside of her, even if it was a tiny little ball in the midst of a snowstorm. 'Graveyard?' she wondered, changing her path to meet him. Oh, and Aurelia. She didn't know if it would be a good thing, meeting people in the middle of the night where others had been buried years and years ago. Then again, Alaric was a vampire. It was likely natural for him.

With a nod of her head in decision, she calmly stepped outside the doors and walked across the grounds. Despite having no proof, Giselle knew in her bones the family patriarch would never actually hurt her. Punishments and discipline didn't make it into her definition of 'hurt' after all. For all the hype around Alaric, she really saw him as her nickname for him, as a sort of grandfather. So far, all he had been to her was kind. Firm at times that it was needed, yes, but still incredibly kind.

'I'm on my way, Opa. Let's hope I don't get lost in the dark.'

[Aurelia]

She had never understood her gift. Why she'd been the one of her side of the family, of her generation capable of seeing the dead, instead of anyone else. In some ways, it was a blessing. But mostly, it was a curse. The constant badgering, the unexpected arrivals. More than once she'd started and broken a glass in hand, including her favorite coffee mug. As a child, she'd always felt herself weird. She'd been harassed briefly until a well aimed fist broke someone's nose when she'd finally had enough. Only those closest to her, such as her sister, Arielle, her favorite cousin, Judah and now, Alaric, knew about it.

There had been many spirits that had come to her and left, but Maddie had always stuck in her mind. Maddie would always be in her mind. Perhaps it was Maddie that was the reason Aurelia didn't like being sick. She took vitamins to stay healthy, she exercised to stay healthy.

It unnerved her, how young the spirits could be, stuck on this plane.

For her to say that Alaric didn't startle her from her thoughts would be a lie. "An old friend." Aurelia's blue eyes lifted to the elder von der Marck before going back to the headstone. "She's one of the first spirits that I met. A little girl. A cousin, shortly after your time, I believe." Admittedly, Aurelia had never studied the line itself - that was Judah's hobby. She knew where she could find out, at least. "She was a really good friend as a child."

Her blue gaze moved to where the spirit girl stood, giggling. Curious. "She's never been able to cross over, no matter how often I've tired." After she made sure the small bouquet she'd brought wouldn't fall away at the wind, she straightened out her shirt before standing and turning to greet Alaric properly. A nod of her head was given to where the spirit stood watching, and then before she was able to blink, disappeared. The laughter remained. "How are you this evening?"

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric smiled, small and soft. The glazed look in his eye might tell Aurelia that there was a conversation happening behind them; a secondary conversation, beside the one that he was having with her.

”The darkness of night is never truly dark, young one. There is the light of the moon and of the stars. Of the city in the distance, bouncing off the clouds. Lost is a state of mind,” he sent to her. There was a possibility that Giselle could get lost but the path was not so hard to follow, and Alaric would find her, if she needed him to. There was nothing on the grounds that could harm her. Even if the fae ventures within the fenceline they’d be after his vampiric blood. Her human limbs would be safe.

The elder’s focus shifted to Aurelia.

”Maybe she does not wish to cross over. It is smart to stay on this plane. I do not believe that there is a heaven or a hell waiting for spirits, but only a lifeless, colourless purgatory,” he said. That’s what it had been for him, anyway -- and he’d seen human spirits. They’d been faceless and nameless, and they could not speak with him. Perhaps they were only remnants of the souls they had been, and he was wrong. Perhaps there was a whole other place for the essence of the living after they were gone. He would not want to test it.

And nor did he think before he spoke; Aurelia was human. Perhaps she wished not to know what life would be like after death.

”I am fine, danke. How are you?”