The Little General Who Could

[Flamebird]

Two stones, half buried into the cool dirt, were rested against the tall, stone wall that isolated the left end of her property from all other's. The other sides of the yard were all bordered by the same wall. It was a relief, as Felicity needed to be alone for this. She The clouds made the sky turn darker, and Felicity could smell ashy rain in the air. Quite the coincidence. Felicity stood in front of the stones, her tools rested on a nearby weight lifting bench. The two stones in front of her, the names she engraved herself, were the first visible signs of her grief she let her hand craft.

Fulcrum Rhyolite, loyal father and uncle, 1773-1813.

Jonathan Rhyolite, Proud Soldier of the Coronian Rangers, 1793-1813.

Felicity clasped her shaking hands together. The cold winds rustled her proper, general-like uniform. As her messed up hair waved in the wet winds, Felicity turned to the first tomb. "U-uncle..."

In the distance, the low rumble of thunder was heard.

"Uncle Fulcrum, I..." She shut her eyes, wincing at the memories, "I remember when you came from from working the metalsmith shop in Deerhorn. You were always so tired, but you took the time for my cousin and me..."

She opened her eyes, tears already pounding the ground like it was already raining. "You were there from the very start! When my mother hated me, you took me in as your own, like your own child." Her back throbbed, "You were always telling us two to calm down, and that it took words rather than fists to solve a problem!" She raised her hands, balling them into fists with all her might, "Now, I don't know what to believe anymore!"

She shook her head as a higher pitched crackle resounded in the sky. "Uncle! I love you so much! I never was able to repay you! You took me in and I ran out the door the first chance I got! I'm sorry!"

She screamed at the tomb, which could not hear her, "I ran off with a mentor who turned out to be a murderer! I wasn't there for you! You fed me, clothed me, and I stubbornly ran off for - oh - I don't even know!" Felicity threw her hand, "Glory? Was that it? I don't know why I left you!"

She fell to her knees, her nice black leggings scrapping against the flooring. "And now you're gone! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I need you! But you're gone!"

The image of a middle aged man entered her mind. A middle aged man with thin, black hair with tints of grey. He always was so calm, so collected, even when Felicity and Jonathan came home cut and scraped from run ins with the townsfolk who did not take kindly to Felicity's existence. This man always lectured them, and he was strict at times, but he never raised his voice to the point of wrath. He was the one to defuse the anger Jonathan had, then Felicity picked up on. He was the one who laughed when Jonathan and Felicity kept pulling pranks on each other in unholy times in the morning. He was a good, kindhearted man... and now he was gone.

"I-I was..." Felicity's head was lowered to the ground as she spat, "I never thought about what you needed... You moved to Corone so I could have a better life, then I walked out... I was..."

Flashes of light dotted the sky, but were silent.

"A spoiled brat..."

A single drop of rain hit the ground.