Willow's Embrace - The burial of Bo

The forest was quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves overhead and the gentle creak of the old willow’s branches swaying in the breeze. Lumie’s feet barely made a sound as she approached the cliff, where the ancient tree stood sentinel over the land below. The air here was different—lighter, as if the weight of the world could slip away, if only for a moment.
She had chosen this place carefully. Far from the grim, filthy encampment, away from the pit where Bo had fallen. He deserved better than the mud and blood of that miserable place. Here, under the willow’s sweeping branches, the grass was soft and cool, the earth welcoming.
Her hands trembled as she knelt beside the freshly turned soil. The small grave was hidden beneath the willow’s embrace, the roots curling protectively around it like a mother’s arms. Lumie placed her palm on the earth, her heart aching with every breath.
“Bo,” she whispered, her voice barely audible against the wind. “I’m sorry… I couldn’t—” Her throat tightened, the words tangling with the grief that threatened to overwhelm her. She looked down at the stone she had chosen—a smooth, solitary rock that rested at the base of the tree. The musical note she had carefully carved into its surface glistened in the sunlight, a tribute to the songs Bo used to hum when the nights were cold and their world was so much darker.
A sob caught in her throat, but she swallowed it down. She couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now. This was supposed to be a place of peace, a place where Bo could rest away from the horrors of the camp, away from the brutality of Solomon and his twisted army.
Slowly, Lumie rose to her feet, her eyes lingering on the grave. She didn’t know if she would ever come back here. The camp was too close, too dangerous. But this spot… it was theirs. Her secret. Bo’s resting place.
The wind picked up, stirring the willow’s long branches, and for a fleeting moment, it felt like Bo was there. Like he was just beyond her reach, watching over her, humming one of those quiet melodies that used to ease the nightmares.
“I’ll keep going,” she whispered to the wind. “I won’t let them forget you.”
With one last glance at the grave, Lumie turned away, her heart heavy but her resolve firm. The path back to the camp stretched before her, but for now, she let herself believe that Bo’s spirit lingered in the soft whispers of the willow, watching over her from the peaceful refuge they had found together. ———
The day after Bo’s burial, the camp was in chaos. Lumie slipped through the shadows, her heart still heavy with grief. Solomon’s forces had led a raid on a nearby settlement, and the spoils were scattered across the muddy camp. Weapons, food, prisoners—it was all a blur to Lumie as she moved, trying to avoid the gaze of the overseers.
But then she heard it.
A soft, familiar tune, carried on the wind. Her breath caught in her throat, and she froze. It couldn’t be. Bo was gone. She had laid him to rest, and yet… the song. The melody he used to hum when they were cold and afraid. It drifted toward her, growing louder, more insistent.
Drawn by the sound, Lumie followed it through the camp. Her feet moved of their own accord, her mind reeling. The humming grew clearer as she approached a pile of weapons, discarded in the aftermath of the raid. Among them, half-buried in the mud, a rapier gleamed.
Her hand trembled as she reached for it, and the moment her fingers touched the hilt, she felt it—a pulse, like a heartbeat. The tune swelled in her mind, and she could hear his voice, Bo’s voice, clearer than ever before.
“I’m still with you.”
The blade spoke to her, not in words, but through the familiar song. Power surged through her, filling the void left by her grief. It promised strength, vengeance—everything she needed to survive, to escape. And more than that, it promised that she would never be without Bo. Not truly.
Tears stung her eyes as she gripped the rapier tightly. The pact was made in that instant. She would spill blood, and she would do it for him. For Bo.
Her chance to escape had finally come.
With the rapier in hand, Lumie fled the camp, slipping into the shadows and disappearing into the night. But even as she left the camp behind, one name lingered in her mind—Solomon. She had escaped, but her fight was far from over. One day, she would return, and when she did, Solomon would pay for what he had done.
For Bo.