The sun began to settle for the evening.
The last few rays flickered over the very edge of the wood fences and stone markers that littered this holy land.
Lit candles, burning incense, bowls of rice, offering to the dead, all strewn about in ritualistic disorder.
Culture, habit, respect for tradition’s past. All entailing the same pained meaning.
this is where bodies lied to rest. Where beaks and Ink were buried into the soft earth, just below her feet.
Nova had not been here in some time. Too long, in fact. Her offerings had gone rancid, incense nothing but remnants of ashes...and the shrine, covered in moss and vines, had not seen care since she left.
“Pity.”, she thought. Her father, a decorated warrior, couldn’t even garner up-keep on his grave. Not to say it didn’t sicken her, but just the thought of those who passed this shrine and threw no second thoughts at it upset her.
But she wasted no time herself. on hands and knees, she tore away at all the invasive greenery. Bare hands, dirtied nails, clawing at it all.
The work exposed scriptures, words, a name written long ago. Erosion settled in the writing, nothing now but mere scratch of what it once was. Even the earth had began forgetting who her father was. Still, it made it no easier for her to make him disappear.
Nova brushed her finger over the remaining markings. The antiquated writing seemed of a time past. She could barely recognize her kind’s writing anymore.
The word that originally had been carved and filligreed with gold leaf rung a little too close to home in this very moment.
“Even in the after-life, your namesake follows you, father.”
her fingers drew shadows over the murky picture that sat atop the shrine, in a tattered, broken frame.
Her father, no older than twenty, fresh off to war. Top of his class, leader of his own platoon. He wore his always neatly kept uniform, and his dashing grin, said to have sunk many a battle ship, and broken many hearts, back in his day.
He soon would meet his love, have a child, then raise by his own hand the example of soldier excellence.
But now, six feet under, no honer, marked a traitor by his homeland, he was nothing but a bad memory. A foul taste in the mouth of the great octo military.
To nova, he was just a bad memory. A bad memory she felt obligated to respect.
She was quick to clean up the mess left behind. Replaced the bowl of rice with freshly cooked short grain she brought in her knapsack. She swapped out the incense, broomed the ground with a fallen branch she had found nearby, and wiped the shrine with her hands and the shirt off her back.
She didn’t kneel to pray until it was spotless, deemed worthy of a hero’s grave.
When she finally took the kneel, she clapped her hands, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. She bowed as deeply as she could, bordering on great respect, and disrespectful mockery.
She spoke softly, a deep heave came, her mind flooded with a particular sadness. A sadness only family can know.
“I know it’s been a while....I have not been an exemplar daughter to you.”
there was a pause. the air thick with silence for that split second.
“...I haven’t been a daughter to you at all. I have been estranged to your spirit. But, believe me, it is not out of choice.”
Her single eye began to well with tears, her chest heaved troubled breaths. she knew it was coming.
“Father...I...I hope you can forgive me. forgive my transgressions....O hope you know what I have been through.”
a tear rolled down her cheek, her words became difficult. her hands shook as she held them in prayer.
“I never...I never meant for everything to end up this way. I never wanted you to...I never wanted this for you. I wanted my own happiness.”
her soft speech gave way for her sputters, the wrenching pain in her chest to outlet.
“I didn’t want this life, father. I didn’t want to be a soldier...I wanted to be my own being. But, you..you insisted this was the only way. I was unhappy, father, but still! I didn’t want this for you....”
Her sadness began slowly evolving in her stomach. Distilling like alcohol, drowning the senses with nothing but spite.
“But you wouldn’t listen.” she pushed the words through her teeth. “I told you many times. But you didn’t listen. Not...not until I...”
Her name cut through the air like a sword.
“You are under arrest for crimes against octorian kind.” that voice....that voice that spoke to her, even as she felt the cold plastic touch of the octo-shot pressing against her skull.
Nova took a deep breath, unmoving from her praying stance.
“789. Do you seek clemency for your incompetence at my father’s grave as well?” nova spoke. No one else in her life had that bitter tone to their words, that angered grudge lying skin deep. Those who challenged her knew better.
