บท 7: Funeral and Talk
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(Omni-Pov)
The sky was a sombre grey, mirroring the mood of those gathered at the cemetery. A light drizzle fell, mingling with the tears of citizens of Gotham as they paid their final respects to Camille Astrea. Known for her boundless generosity and unyielding spirit, Camille had touched countless lives through her philanthropic work. Her loss was a heavy blow to the community.
A large, elegant cathedral provided shelter from the rain. Inside, rows of chairs were filled with mourners, each reflecting on their own memories of Camille. At the front, a beautifully crafted oak casket adorned with white lilies and roses stood as a tale of the life of a remarkable woman. Next to it, a podium awaited the speaker.
Various notable figures gave speeches, praising the mother's dedication, kindness, and contributions to society. Vernon stood up when it was his turn, holding a piece of paper with trembling hands.
The crowd's murmurs quieted as a young boy in his teenage years. Vernon Astrea, Camille's eldest son, took a deep breath, steadying himself. He looked out over the sea of faces—some familiar, others he knew only through the comic book stories. His eyes, red from tears, held a determined glimmer.
Vernon began to speak, his voice steady and filled with warmth.
"Thank you all for coming today to honour my mother, Camille Astrea. It is proof of her impact that so many of you have gathered here, despite the weather, to celebrate her life and legacy.
"My mother was many things: a daughter, a sister, a friend, a wife, and to me and my sister, the most amazing mother we could ever have hoped for. But beyond her roles within our family, she was a beacon of hope and generosity in this city. She believed deeply in the power of kindness, in the strength of compassion, and in the importance of giving back."
"Growing up, I watched her tirelessly work to improve the lives of others. She founded the Astrea Foundation, which has supported education, healthcare, and housing for those in need. She didn't just write checks; she invested her time, energy, and heart. She visited schools, attended community meetings, and sat with families to understand their struggles and dreams. She was a force of nature, driven by a singular purpose: to make the world a better place.
"My mother taught us that true wealth isn't measured by the size of your bank account, but by the number of lives you've touched. She used her resources not to accumulate more for herself, but to uplift others. Her philanthropy was not about charity; it was about justice, about giving everyone a fair shot at a good life.
"One of her favourite quotes was from Winston Churchill: 'We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give.' She embodied this principle every day. Whether it was funding a new wing at the children's hospital or providing scholarships for underprivileged students, she believed that her success was only meaningful if it could help others succeed as well.
"To those of you who benefited from her kindness, know that you were her motivation and her joy. She often said that seeing others thrive was the greatest reward she could receive. And to those of us left behind, let us carry forward her legacy of generosity and compassion. Let us remember her not just in our mourning but in our actions. Let's continue her work, strive to live by her example, and ensure that her spirit of giving lives on.
"Mom, we miss you terribly, but we promise to honour you by keeping your vision alive. Your love and your legacy will continue to inspire us every day.
"Thank you, everyone, for being here. Let's honour Camille Astrea by continuing to build the better world she believed in."
Vernon stepped down from the podium, the echoes of his words lingering in the air. The rain seemed to soften as if acknowledging the tribute to a life well-lived. Camille Astrea's spirit of generosity and love would indeed live on in the hearts of all who knew her.
Walking towards the front seat he saw a few people he recognised but he ignored them and went straight to his sister.
"Are you ready to go?" He asked as he stretched his towards.
"Hm" was all that was heard from her as she took his hand and walked towards the car.
No reporter tried to get in their way for questions, no one tried to make any noise, and even children kept quiet like they knew that it was not the time to be noisy.
Entering the car as Grayfia opened the door, The two were driven away as an entourage guarded them.
Driving home from the funeral was a solemn, reflective experience. The gray clouds that had hung over the cemetery still lingered in the sky, casting a muted light over the landscape. The rain had reduced to a light drizzle, and the windshield wipers swished rhythmically, adding a soft, repetitive soundtrack to the silence in the car.
Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was heavy with grief the roads seemed emptier than usual as if the world itself was paying its respects, moving a bit slower, quieter, and more considerate.
The route home took them through familiar streets, but today they felt different.
The trees, still lush with summer leaves, swayed gently in the wind, their branches bowing as if in a silent salute. Occasionally, a sunbeam would break through the clouds, casting a brief, warm glow over the road, a small comfort amidst the sorrow.
As the car approached home, the realization settled that life would have to go on, though it would be different now. Camille's absence was palpable, yet there was a sense of quiet determination among those in the car.
The car turned into the driveway, the familiar crunch of gravel under the tires sounding almost like a sigh. The house stood as it always had, but it too seemed changed, imbued with the memories of the woman who had filled it with love, laughter, and purpose.
Stepping out of the car, there was a shared moment of understanding. The journey home from the funeral had been more than just a drive; it had been a transition—a passage from the initial shock of loss to the beginning of a life where Camille's teachings and spirit would lead them forward. The drizzle had stopped, leaving a fresh, cleansed world behind, much like the promise of a new chapter that awaited them inside.
(MC pov)
Looking at photo albums of Mom, Aileen and me with Aileen sitting on my lap, I couldn't help but look at her. She finally came out of her room, ate and isn't acting like a robot anymore.
"Will we ever see mom again?" She asked.
I was taken aback by this question as I knew fully well that she knew what death was and fully understood what happens when someone dies.
"I'm just asking,...I mean dreaming." she continued.
"We will,... but at a cost," I said with a solemn voice, thinking about the things that would need to be done in the future to make that happen.
"...pfft" a stifled laughter was heard from the dumpling on my lap.
"Did you just laugh?"
"Nope."
"Then what was that sound?"
"I emitted a modest quantity of intestinal gas, accompanied by a distinct olfactory signature, resulting from the natural digestive processes within the gastrointestinal tract, but you sounded so emo though."
"-"
"-"
"...pfft"
"Grayfia, did you just laugh?" I turned and asked the silver-haired maid that stood behind us.
"Ahem, It must be your imagination master," Grayfia said as she stood with her always cold face. She kind of reminded me of another emotionless assistant I know.
"Hahahaha" A bell-like laughter erupted from Aileen and she held her belly and doubled over.
I smiled and looked at the tiny munchkin on my lap, now that's the Aileen.
She stopped laughing and glanced at me most likely feeling my gaze.
"Why are you looking at me like that you virgin?" She said with a smug smile.
Of course, she had to ruin the beautiful moment.
I felt a vein pop on my head.
"You talk like you are not one."
"Wow, look at what you are telling a minor. What a pervert, I can't believe this is my brother," she said as she sighed disappointed as she looked away from me.
I rubbed my brows as I sighed exasperatedly and looked at her and said:
"You irritate me"
"I love me too, you don't have to tell me." She replied smugly with her chin raised to the sky.
"Whatever" I don't have time for her shenanigans.
"Grayfia did you bring the camera?" I turned and asked her as I told her before to bring one.
"Yes, Master."
"Good, Aileen let's take the photo."
"Ugh, fine. NOX." She said and shouted a name.
And in walked the eldritch horror disguised as a furred beauty. She walked poised and purred as she rubbed her body on my leg and then jumped on Aileen's lap.
"Okay, now we are ready. Grayfia if you would do the honours."
"Of course my lady," Grayfia said as proceeded to tell the blank-minded photographer that was outside the room and had been hypnotised and ignored from the beginning of this chapter to come in and do his job.
Having a maid that can hypnotise people is the best.
The photographer snapped some photos of Me, Aileen, Grayfia, and NOX. And then of me and Aileen alone. Well Nox sneaked in some of them.
They came out quite wonderfully. Looks like Grayfia found a good photographer for us.
"haaaaaaah" Aileen yawned.
"Vernon, I'm going to bed with Nox." She continued as her eyes were already drooping. It was quite a funny sight to see. A sleepy angel holding a disguised eldritch horror to her chest.
As much as I want to continue this sight I better let her go and sleep.
"Well, good night my shining light," I said as I arranged her hair and kissed her on her forehead.
"Goodnight," She said as she kissed me on the cheek and then proceeded to stagger to her room with Nox in her arms.
Taking in this sight, I smiled dotingly at her.
As she walked out of the room I got up and walked to the rain-ridden windows and looked at the sky.
"Master, why did you want to get a photo?" Grayfia asked as she stood behind me.
"So that I can remember how my eyes looked like before I started acting on my plans," I replied as I looked at this photo.
'I'm very sure my future self will be jealous of the present me.' I thought as I returned looking through the window to the skies as what controlled them was about to change.
"I'll be with you all the way master," Grayfia said as she knelt on one knee to show her loyalty to me.
"I know Grayfia, I know."
Even though I knew she was loyal, I also knew she wasn't devoted and my paranoid and control freak of a mind would not allow that. I couldn't rush it though as she was a living being with a will not a doll. I'll first mould her slowly to my image, good things take time after all.
'How easy things if she was a doll but that wouldn't be interesting now would it?' I thought and smiled as I looked out the window.
(Omni pov)
Vernon smiled as he gazed through the window, his eyes reflecting the image of the boy in the photo he held. The resemblance between them was fading with each passing moment; the innocence that once defined his gaze was gradually giving way to a dark, hollow light. Yet, this transformation seemed almost illusory, as if the change was a mere mirage masking the deeper reality within.
.....
Forgotten hypnotised photographer: 'How emo. Looks like I was forgotten about again.'
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Well, that's it for this chapter. Continuing the story since a lot of you said I should.
His first interaction with Grayfia will be explained later on in the story.
Also showed that his transition to his villain position is not immediate but gradual so hope you enjoyed it.
Please comment on where I can improve and support me with some stones and add the story to your collection.
2100 words.
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