Stone Circle c

The father stone; the burial site for her late husband, whose kindness was evident in the way she spoke of him. Then the mother stone; it stood guard over the grave of his late wife, yet it was not the least bit intimidating. Somehow, it brought forth a wave of relief, which washed over him with increasing ease the longer he gazed at the stone. It was as if she was there alongside it, warmth radiating from the stone as light was cast down upon it.

Overwhelming was a mild way to describe his feelings.

Given space he didn’t realise he needed, Kove approached the stone; his movements were slow and his exterior expression displaced, a crack in the mask he’d worn for so long revealing the agony that lingered just below. As the background faded and his shoulders slumped forward, he could not hide the gleam of tears that brimmed the corners of his eyes. For so long, he’d hidden behind a wall of anger and false disgust, not allowing himself to truly mourn her. But now, as he stood before her again, he was suddenly hit by a freight train of emotions: anger, sorrow, joy, and so many more he could not name.

“Kangâ,” he whispered. “Kikavaga… I should have stayed.” It was far too late now, years having gone by since he’d left her in the valley; she was gone from this world now, she had been for a while. And as much as he sought to join her, his body refused to fail him still, forcing him to continue living even when it was she that should be the one to still breathe. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, this time to Valette. “For leaving your mother alone. For leaving you and your sisters without a father. For… for this, for being here now. I’m sorry.” But he could not look at her, nor even at the stone, his gaze averted and downcast. Maybe he shouldn’t have followed his granddaughter there—maybe things would have been better left untouched.