Stone Circle Every story has its scars

How different things could have been; he often thought similar things, mind wandering miles away, lured along by falsities. Things could have been so different in his life and the lives of his children—but when he tried to imagine a life with Scarlett still at his side, the images grew blurry, faded. He missed her—so much so that he could feel his heart aching at night when all that was there to listen to were his own thoughts. Yet, those images faded nonetheless, dragged away by time and impossibilities. “I’m glad you turned out the way you did,” he commented. “That you found your happiness, despite everything.” Truthfully, that was all he could ask for anymore: that his children be happy.

The comment on their age was to be expected, yet the elder was not made any less hopeful by it. “Even things broken several lifetimes ago can still be mended,” he advised. “As long as both parties put in the effort.” In the end, it all depended on them; he could not force his children to get along, especially not when they were raised in such different environments, learning opposite things. But whilst he could not influence them, that did not keep him from wishing in their favour—seeking better lives for them, with bonds stronger than those of the north.

“You remind me of her—your mother,” the man continued, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But your daughter… I think all you need to do is look at Arlette and you’ll see your mother staring back. Your own reflection, too.” Scarlett lived on through her daughter and granddaughter, he was certain. “Memories fade over time, sadly… but we can still hang on to some of them. Those that we treasure the most.” And in those treasured memories, perhaps she could see her mother’s face again.