Everyone jumped, and turned to find Chapel there, leaning against the wall. Wren had no idea how long the man had been standing there.
“ Spatz , old man!” jCharles said, which earned him a reproving look from Mol. “I swear I’m gonna have to tie a bell around your neck. I thought you went out!”
“I did,” said Chapel.
“And?” jCharles asked.
“I am returned.”
There entered a side conversation which ran for a long while. Wren did his best to explain what he could about awakening the Weir, which wasn’t much. Chapel identified himself as formerly of the Weir, and answered Haiku’s questions in his typical enigmatic way. Wren noticed Haiku didn’t record anything in his book throughout that discussion. After a time, Haiku returned to the final moments of Wren’s tale and resumed writing, though he didn’t seem quite satisfied with what they’d told him. Nevertheless, his full attention was once again on Wren, and Wren did his best to finish a full and good account of his time with Three.
By the end, Wren was exhausted emotionally and physically. But as he slouched back on the couch and let his head rest on its cushioned back, he noticed he felt lighter somehow. Not happy, certainly. But healthier. Relieved. Content, maybe. Like some great burden had been taken from his shoulders, or some deep sickness drawn from his body. The flickering flame of memory he’d fought to quench blazed brighter than ever now. Three’s face was as clear and bright in his mind as ever before, and while there was still sorrow, it dimmed in comparison to the love and gratitude Wren felt. Three had died for him. More than that. Far more than that. Three had truly given his life for Wren; not just in that final moment and act, but in every day, in every hour of sacrifice leading up to it. From the moment Three had given his word, he too had given his life. And having told all that Three had done for him, that gift became powerfully real to Wren in that instant, and utterly precious. The weight of it rested upon him, not as a burden, but as a blessing that commanded his affection and his awe.
“How did you know to prepare his body that way?” Haiku asked. Wren noticed the man’s eyes were shining like he might cry, but his face also almost looked glad.
“From him. We just did it the same way he showed me. After Mr Carter. And Dagon.”
“But you say you waited until the sun was setting,” Haiku said.
“Oh,” Wren said. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
Haiku smiled and nodded. “It was, more than you know. And now you have done him a double honor. You upheld the tradition of his House, whether you knew it or not, and gave his remains the due tribute he likely would have been denied elsewhere. And the record you have kept, which you have relayed to me,” here Haiku held up the book from his lap, “will be preserved. His memory will live on, not just in you, but in those who otherwise would have never known him.”
Haiku closed his book and set it aside. He stood and came to kneel in front of Wren, and looked him squarely in the eye.
“Three could not have been more properly and fully honored had he passed on while our House still stood in its former glory,” he said, and then bowed his head. “I am deeply grateful.”
“I’m glad I did the right thing,” Wren answered.
Haiku looked up at him and smiled, and then rose to his feet.
“Thank you all,” he said, looking to jCharles and Mol. “For your hospitality, and your forbearance. I know this was not an easy time for any of you.”
“It was well worth it, friend,” jCharles responded. “I loved Three like he was my blood. You showing up is like having a piece of him back, in a way. Of course, you know, I don’t know how you ever tracked him to us, and normally I wouldn’t care too much for that.”
Haiku smiled his easy smile. “I assure you it was not easy, nor would it be easily
“ Spatz , old man!” jCharles said, which earned him a reproving look from Mol. “I swear I’m gonna have to tie a bell around your neck. I thought you went out!”
“I did,” said Chapel.
“And?” jCharles asked.
“I am returned.”
There entered a side conversation which ran for a long while. Wren did his best to explain what he could about awakening the Weir, which wasn’t much. Chapel identified himself as formerly of the Weir, and answered Haiku’s questions in his typical enigmatic way. Wren noticed Haiku didn’t record anything in his book throughout that discussion. After a time, Haiku returned to the final moments of Wren’s tale and resumed writing, though he didn’t seem quite satisfied with what they’d told him. Nevertheless, his full attention was once again on Wren, and Wren did his best to finish a full and good account of his time with Three.
By the end, Wren was exhausted emotionally and physically. But as he slouched back on the couch and let his head rest on its cushioned back, he noticed he felt lighter somehow. Not happy, certainly. But healthier. Relieved. Content, maybe. Like some great burden had been taken from his shoulders, or some deep sickness drawn from his body. The flickering flame of memory he’d fought to quench blazed brighter than ever now. Three’s face was as clear and bright in his mind as ever before, and while there was still sorrow, it dimmed in comparison to the love and gratitude Wren felt. Three had died for him. More than that. Far more than that. Three had truly given his life for Wren; not just in that final moment and act, but in every day, in every hour of sacrifice leading up to it. From the moment Three had given his word, he too had given his life. And having told all that Three had done for him, that gift became powerfully real to Wren in that instant, and utterly precious. The weight of it rested upon him, not as a burden, but as a blessing that commanded his affection and his awe.
“How did you know to prepare his body that way?” Haiku asked. Wren noticed the man’s eyes were shining like he might cry, but his face also almost looked glad.
“From him. We just did it the same way he showed me. After Mr Carter. And Dagon.”
“But you say you waited until the sun was setting,” Haiku said.
“Oh,” Wren said. “Yeah.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, it just seemed like the right thing to do.”
Haiku smiled and nodded. “It was, more than you know. And now you have done him a double honor. You upheld the tradition of his House, whether you knew it or not, and gave his remains the due tribute he likely would have been denied elsewhere. And the record you have kept, which you have relayed to me,” here Haiku held up the book from his lap, “will be preserved. His memory will live on, not just in you, but in those who otherwise would have never known him.”
Haiku closed his book and set it aside. He stood and came to kneel in front of Wren, and looked him squarely in the eye.
“Three could not have been more properly and fully honored had he passed on while our House still stood in its former glory,” he said, and then bowed his head. “I am deeply grateful.”
“I’m glad I did the right thing,” Wren answered.
Haiku looked up at him and smiled, and then rose to his feet.
“Thank you all,” he said, looking to jCharles and Mol. “For your hospitality, and your forbearance. I know this was not an easy time for any of you.”
“It was well worth it, friend,” jCharles responded. “I loved Three like he was my blood. You showing up is like having a piece of him back, in a way. Of course, you know, I don’t know how you ever tracked him to us, and normally I wouldn’t care too much for that.”
Haiku smiled his easy smile. “I assure you it was not easy, nor would it be easily
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