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In a corner of Raphael Cemetery.
In front of a grave with the black-and-white photograph of a brown-haired man with a bookish air, Melissa and Benson read:
“The best younger brother
The best elder brother
The best colleague”.
Melissa couldn’t believe what was happening. Ever since the green-eyed Leonard Mitchell had told her that Klein passed away, everything felt like a dream. A bad dream. A nightmare she just wanted to wake up from.
She watched as her brother’s coffin was lowered into the grave with unfocused eyes. The priest, eulogy and individual prayers felt like there were muffled, like she was hearing a distant conversation in the street. She felt disconnected from reality. She heard the shovels digging the soil, heard the way the dirt hit the coffin, heard the sorrowful cries of friends and family and even then, she still didn’t feel that it was real. It happened too fast and was too unexpected. One morning Benson and Melissa were expectant to see the count’s return, the first play they could watch, that they could finally afford through Klein efforts in his job, and without prior notice, she was standing in front of her elder brother’s grave.
Melissa knelt down and tossed the copper whistle she found in her brother’s body. Goddess, her brother’s body
The grave was leveled, and stone slab was laid over.
The members of the Blackthorn Security Company, Selena and Elizabeth gradually left. Leaving only Benson and Melissa behind.
“I’ll get a rental carriage….” Benson was in terrible condition; it was as if he hadn’t sleep for a long time.
“Alright” Melissa nodded.
When Benson left, she turned and looked at the tombstone.
She squatted down and buried her face in her arms, all the weight of her feelings crushing her small frame.
Left alone with her thoughts she accepted the fact.
The fact that Klein Moretti was dead.
Her elder brother was dead .
After some silence, Melissa suddenly scolded “Stupid!”
Melissa felt that Klein was an idiot. Why sacrifice himself to save people? Why did he have to become a hero? Couldn’t he have left that job to the employees of the Blackthorn security Company? Actual mercenaries and not a simple history consultant? Why did he leave Benson and her alone? Why did he have to die? Just why?
She cried as she wept silently. Her tears just wouldn’t stop.
…
Nighttime in Tingen City, 2 Daffodil Street
Melissa and Benson were celebrating the new year.
They were sitting in the table, drinking Tea, and enjoying a Southville Beer. There were three sets of cutleries and another Soutville Beer near the empty seat.
“Have you packed everything for Backlund?” Benson asked
To take the second round of the Civil Servant Unified Examination Benson had to go to the Capital of Capitals, the land of hope: Backlund. Melissa had too, so she could prepare for the entrance exam at the Backlund University of Technology and Industry in June. Soon, they would leave Tingen City.
“Not yet” Melissa replied quietly
Going through her belongings was not easy. Many of them reminded her of Klein. She had taken a break from packing when she had seen the neat dress Klein had bought for her when his salary improved, an intense sense of sadness washing over her.
Klein had been death for months and the grief never went away.
She remembered him when she passed Mrs. Smyrin store, when seeing in the bakery a desi pie, when watching passerbys enjoying a Sweet Iced Tea. When arriving at home, she hoped to smell fragrant scents, hoping that Klein was preparing diner. When sitting during the afternoons doing math problems, she wished with all her being, that Klein would knock on the door, to see him enter his house after his job, tired but still smiling, as if nothing had changed.
“You can take your time” With a smile, Benson told her. Maybe he had seen something in her expression.
Melissa pursed her lips and softly said “Thank you”
Benson nodded and stood up.
“I’m going to wash the dishes; you can go back to your room if you want”
Melissa also stood up and started walking to her room.
Halfway from it, she changed her mind.
Instead, she entered a Klein’s room.
Everything remained unchanged except for the slight dust covering Klein’s desk; she and Benson weren’t able to, couldn’t, enter the room since Klein died.
Melissa stood there like a statue.
In top of Klein’s desk, she had noticed an object compromised of items like gears, rusted iron, torsion springs and ordinary springs.
Klein had thought that it was a tortoise. She could still remember the way his lips twitched when she told him it was actually a puppet, giving her an awkward smile.
It was a happy memory.
A happy memory now tainted with grief.
Melissa laughed.
She laughed.
Laughed until only broken sobs remained.
Outside of the room, Benson rested his head against the door. His smile completely gone. And his eyes contained heavy tragedies. He was in no better state than Melissa.
…
Melissa and Benson were leaving to the train station, she walked alongside Benson, constantly turning her head back, looking at their home.
She didn’t want to leave Tingen, the city her brothers and her had grown up in, and the house they had once shared with Klein.
She wistfully looked back as with each step, the house slowly faded. Benson also turned his head, his expression no different than hers. He wanted to have a better life, to try his luck at Backlund. He felt empty, he once wished to be able to do this, but instead of just two people walking towards the train station, three should have been here, and instead of a sad silence and numb expressions, there should have been humorous jokes and hopeful smiles.
…
Leaving Backlund’s train station, Benson protected his sister and wallet with their suitcases while following the crowd.
Suddenly, they simultaneously felt a gaze sweep past them.
Tracing the gaze, Benson and Melissa saw a young gentleman with neat black hair and dark brown eyes.
The gentleman with gold-rimmed glasses pressed his hat and looked past them into the distance
Benson and Melissa also looked away and cast their gaze to smoky pillars in the garden in the middle of the street as they looked forward to seeing the underground transportation system in Backlund.
The gentleman walked past them.
Melissa turned her head, looking at the straight back walking away.
She felt an inexplicably sense of familiarity coming from that man.
As the gentlemen disappeared among the crowd, she dismissed that thought. She had never seen him before.
Melissa and Benson continued walking. Knowing that they would have a better future.
Melissa and Benson would have a better future.
But Klein wouldn’t be with them to see it.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.