"Put on your new boots Branston, we are going for a walk". Neyaa smiled at her son as she helped him on with the boots Foxwin had made for him. They were a perfect fit and Foxwin had insisted they were a gift for Branston's first naming day.
Deredan had spent time with Branston in the morning but had to leave to go about his duties. He would be home later to celebrate with them. The boy sensed this was a special day as gifts had been left for him from various friends. Neyaa was careful not to spoil the child, something his natural father would have insisted upon.
Branston soon learned his boots made a noise when he stamped upon the wooden floor and amused himself by stomping around the house swinging his wooden sword about the place, jubilent with excitement.
She knelt down and fastened Branston's coat about him, it was starting to get chilly as winter was coming. Still a little weak herself, Neyaa swayed a little when she stood up, it had only been five days since she had lost Deredan's child, she had her reasons for not telling him but that did not lessen the guilt or the heartbreak.
Neyaa held Branston's hand as they made their way up the hill, the boy clutching a small bunch of flowers. He looked down at his boots as he walked, enamoured with them as he kicked every stone they passed.
Before long they reached the familiar sight of the DawnHall, the meeting house of The Bloody Dawn. Neyaa had lived there once with Branston's natural father, Hardoleth, former Captain and founder of the company. Neyaa led the boy straight to the place where Hardoleth was buried, tears as ever welling up in her eyes, she wondered if she would ever be free of the grief of losing him.
Neyaa pointed to the small mound of earth, and Branston placed the flowers atop it “Da” he declared, Neyaa nodded and a tear slid down her cheek, thankfully unnoticed. Branston stood quietly for a time, it was as if he sensed something, but of course could not understand why his mother would often bring him to this place to lay flowers down. Soon enough he found the proceedings had lost his interest and asked for his wooden sword and began to hit it off the nearby tree.
“Hardoleth” she whispered, “today is our son's naming day, I wish that you had been here to see him, he is growing into a fine boy, and I know you would not have been able to deny your love for him”. She sat down next to the graveside, feeling somewhat comforted, Hardoleth was the first man to ever make her feel safe, he had sworn to always protect her, and now she had something to ask him, even in death.
“I have something to ask of you, I have lost another child, I know you were not a godly man, but you are in the halls now and I do not know that my other children are, but if they are, I would ask that you watch over them for me”. “What would you say to me Hardoleth? I think that you would tell me what is done is done, to dry my tears and that I should not worry about things that cannot be undone”.
Neyaa dried her eyes on the back of her hand and called to Branston. The boy clambered over tripping several times over the clumpy terrain, the Dawners did not exactly tend to the grounds around the house.
“It is time for us to go Branston”
Branston knew the way of things and waved his tiny hand at the flowers he had lain. “Ferthu”, the boy pronounced badly, a smile on his face. Neyaa took hold of his hand and composed herself and asked brightly “who is having a special day today?”. Branston whooped in delight and raised his wooden sword in the air. Neyaa smiled at her son, she glanced back at the grave site then turned back to the direction of her house and raised her chin, today was Branston's day...after all one should count their blessing...life goes on.
