Once the pilgrimage entered the Whispering, it came to a stop so the people could eat and rest. This rest shouldn't take more than an hour, but orders from high above came to resume the pilgrimage the next day.
Cauldrons of stew were shimmering in the shade of the church.
If one were to look around, he wouldn't see any backpacks of sorts. Food was cooked by the church officials who were on the ground. Every resource that was needed for travel was carried by carriages that were driven by those officials. So the pilgrims didn't need to carry anything, but that created a monopoly in a sense. The pilgrims were fully dependent on the church for their needs.
That was what Maryam thought, since she was unfortunately asked to help with the cooking. Even though she wasn't a church official, if the church asked you to do something on the pilgrimage, you do it. But she could only sigh and do community service, even if she didn't want to.
That rule didn't apply to Eve, Elyon, and Vigil since they already had their own resources. And so they decided to remain quiet about this, because it wasn't prohibited to bring supplies, just highly frowned upon. Why? Because you weren't "dependent" on the church's benevolence.
Anton was left again with Stacy; as he rubbed his face, he thought about how to even talk with her because he couldn't bear the silence any longer. But surprisingly, Stacy was the first to break the silence.
"Are you married?"
The question caught Anton off guard, firstly because he didn't think she would even ask him anything. And secondly, did she take Maryam's couple of words to heart? No, it couldn't be...
"Yes, I am married," Anton replied.
Anton looked down at his hand, where his wedding ring was.
Stacy turned her head toward him. "Are you happy in your marriage?"
Those words stung for whatever reason. Also, was she flirting with him? Anton didn't really have a clue.
"Yes, I am happy."
Stacy brought her left hand to the scar on her face. She remained quiet for a while, which made Anton want to ask her.
"Are you flirting with me?"
Stacy turned her head to look at Anton.
"What?"
"You are."
"I'm not."
"Who even asks someone if they are married, if not for flirting reasons?"
Stacy remained quiet for a bit longer, then she answered, "I'm not flirting with you. I was just... curious."
"Curious about what?"
"About your marriage."
"Why?"
Stacy pressed her hands against her face. "I don't know, I just wanted to know."
Anton was growing quite annoyed with Stacy's attitude, so he lit a cigarette.
"I, um..."
Anton turned his head back to Stacy. "Hmm?"
"My husband... ex-husband, um..."
Anton raised an eyebrow at her. "What about him?"
She tried to muster up the courage to say something, but the words died on her tongue. And so she pointed her fingers toward the scar on her face. "He did this."
Anton was left dumbfounded; he didn't expect to hear what had happened to her cheek.
"T-that's why I asked if you were happy in your m-marriage. Because... I wasn't."
Anton's cigarette flew from his mouth, landing right onto the patch of grass beneath him.
His eye was growing hot; he reached for his spoon and pressed it against his eye. He wasn't the sentimental type, nor did he care about people's problems. But this time it felt different to see a woman act so awkwardly because of her past marriage, or rather the supposed abuse she endured. In his eyes, marriages were supposed to be the best thing that one could go through. And yet...
"I was happ—" He cut himself off. How much of a hypocrite would he be if he said that he was happy?
"I'm sorry you had to go through that; no one deserves it," Anton apologized for something that he didn't do.
Stacy nodded weakly; she hadn't even told her mother what happened. Why was Anton the first to hear about her scar, which her ex-husband caused?
Anton picked his cigarette back up, then he lit it again.
Stacy just stared at him.
"C-can you tell me about your f-family?"
Anton looked at the smoke that was coming off his cigarette. The spoon was still pressed against his eye. "Yeah."
But before Anton could start, he heard some shouting behind him. "A CORPSE! WE FOUND A CORPSE!"
Several minutes ago, Eve was eating the stew which she took from one of the officials. Elyon and Vigil did the same; they ate in silence. That was until a guy came from behind a tree; he had gone to take a piss, and he found a dead guy who looked like he had fallen from a hill.
Eve, Elyon, and Vigil were the closest to the forest, and so the man told them first.
Eve and Elyon got up to check; they went past the pine trees, and in front of them lay a dead man with a neatly cut mustache and messy ginger hair with dirt in it. His clothes were messy, and his limbs were... bent at unnatural angles.
The sight made Eve sick; she had almost forgotten what a dead person looked like. But something else caught her attention: the dead man clutched a letter, holding it close to his chest.
Eve wanted to reach for it, but she chose against it.
Both Eve and Elyon looked at the dead guy.
Eve was the first to speak. "Let's bury him."
Elyon nodded, then Eve grabbed Nightfall, drove the sword into the dirt, and began using it as a makeshift shovel.
"A CORPSE! WE FOUND A CORPSE!" The man kept yelling as loud as he could to grab the attention of as many people as possible.
Anton got up and turned toward the forest. "Let's go and check it out, then I will tell you."
Stacy nodded disappointedly.
Many more people started to approach the corpse in the forest; all of them stared at Eve as she was burying him.
In total, there were about twenty-seven people present by the time Anton and Stacy reached them. Anton saw Eve burying the corpse, and he thought that she must be someone from the church.
But when Anton looked closely at who Eve was burying, his eyes widened. He knew that person; he had even talked with that guy a few times. They weren't friends or anything, just someone he knew. That person was...
"OLIVER?"
Anton, along with everyone present there, turned their gazes toward Stacy. Even Eve stopped her task to look at her.
"You know the dead gu—" But before Anton could ask, Stacy started to cry; tears began to flow down her face in heavy streaks. It wasn't a pretty cry, far from it. Anton didn't think someone could cry like this.
Through her river of tears, she managed to choke out a small, "Ple-please... stop. D-don't bury him."
Elyon wanted to ask the random woman who this man was, but Anton beat him to it: "How come you know Oliver the author?"
"H-he is... was m-my ex-husband," Stacy managed to choke out through her tears.
Anton looked at Stacy, then at Oliver's corpse, then back at her. He didn't think he would meet the bastard who caused Stacy her scar so soon. But that really didn't make any sense now, since he was... dead.
Eve got off the dirt hill she was standing on. She bent to grab the letter. Eve walked over to Stacy and handed her the letter.
"I think this is for you."
Stacy wiped her tears, and she took the letter in her hands. Elyon was staring at both of them until Eve walked over to him and grabbed him by the robe to drag him away.
Soon the rest of the people followed, until Stacy and Anton were the only ones left in front of Oliver. "I will leave you two alone."
As Anton turned to walk away, he heard her speak: "D-don't. I don't want to be alone with him."
Anton stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back to Stacy. "You sure?"
Unbeknownst to the two of them, someone was staring at them through the trees; it was Vigil.
Stacy nodded weakly, and she handed him the letter. "Every time O-Oliver would make me m-mad, he would write me letters to apologize. I w-would do the same, then we would eat porridge. That was u-until..." She gestured to her scar.
The half-buried Oliver was staring at them. Anton looked at him, then back at Stacy, and he took the letter. "You really want me to open it?"
Stacy nodded weakly, and so Anton opened the letter; he thought that he would find a big piece of text. Yet the only thing he read was...
Dear Oliver...
It was written in big letters, and there was nothing more there—just those two words.
He looked back at Stacy, then back at the letter. How could he tell her what was written in the letter?
And so, Anton lied.
"Stacy, I'm sorry for what I did. I hope one day you can forgive me."
Anton felt like shit, while Stacy started crying louder. Was this for the better? He didn't know, but he had to get rid of the letter as fast as he could.
And so, he threw the letter next to Oliver's dead body.
"O-Oliver had a fear of being buried."
Anton looked back at her. "What do you suggest we do?"
"L-let's cremate him."
Anton nodded. "I will bring wood."
Since the ground was wet from yesterday's rain, normal wood wouldn't cut it. But luckily, the church wagon had some high-quality wood that was dried.
It was starting to get a bit dark; dusk was painting the outline of the flying church.
Anton left Stacy alone; at least, that's what he thought, since he didn't know that Vigil was still watching her.
Anton came back later with multiple people, alongside Eve and Elyon. Everyone was carrying as much wood as they could. Stacy stared at her ex-husband's corpse as he was covered in a layer of wood.
Anton pulled out his lighter and handed it to Stacy. She walked over to Oliver, and she lit his letter on fire.
The letter caught fire; the flames began to slowly spread until the whole forest became a dance of light, and smoke began to rise. Oliver's body was beginning to get charred.
Stacy and Anton watched the fire dance; the other people started praying to the God of Heaven while Eve and Elyon watched as well.
Anton pulled out a cigarette, but then he changed his mind. He pulled out two. He handed one to Stacy; she took it without saying anything. Once she put it in her mouth, Anton lit it for her, then he lit his own cigarette.
This time she didn't cough, since she was too busy letting her tears fall.
"I, um," Anton pulled out his spoon.
Stacy kept looking at the fire.
"I used to have a wife and a baby... My boy... Georgey got really sick, and he died. My wife... she took her life soon after."
For the first time in his life, he actually told someone what happened. He didn't dodge the truth as he had with George. He didn't really move on; he couldn't move on. But he knew that his wife would be mad at him for living like this.
Faced with cancer and the grief of losing his family, he couldn't do anything but grieve. But was that everything life had to offer after it took everything he held dear?
"I'm sorry you had to go through that; no one deserves it."
Anton's words were thrown back at him by none other than the crying Stacy.
For the first time in his life, he wanted to live. Moving on would be too hard, maybe impossible. But he still wanted to live somewhat.
Anton clutched the spoon hard in his hands.
He couldn't start a love life with anyone else; he didn't want that. It was the least he could do for his deceased family. But he at least wanted to have a friend, and that friend was already next to him.
Because he knew that the woman who bore the name of Stacy felt the same way.
It was time for both of them to try to live for themselves.
And so Anton threw the spoon into the fire alongside Oliver's corpse.
Anton started crying alongside Stacy as the spoon hit the fire.
Both of them watched the fire claim their past and for the first time in their lives, everything looked... manageable.