Kitten... So Powerful Ch. 00

Prologue

The mourning tones of "Amazing Grace" stood in sharp contrast with the joyful chatter of birds, the golden sunlight blindingly cheerful. The casket, stretched out over the shoulders of six men in dark suits, glinted like a pearl in the glare of the sun's rays. The procession made it's way across the courtyard, the glorified Tupperware set on a wooden altar. Mourners with eyes downcast set flowers and trinkets in an ever thickening border around the ivory box.

As the last lyric of "Amazing Grace" faded into the morning air, a girl with dark hair pulled back into a tight, high pony-tail stepped forward. The wispy tips of her thin hair fluttered in the light breeze. Her makeup highlighted already high cheekbones and gracefully sloped eyebrows complimented by the green-brown hazel pools filled with it the brim with tears. Her delicate fingers were wrapped tightly around the thin wax of a red candle. The flame rained burning tears onto the girl's uncaring hand, pink welts forming where the wax dripped repeatedly.

The dark haired girl set the candle on the edge of the flower border, then raised her head. Her eyes were red and the dark clouds of tear streaked mascara had begun to run into the flush of her cheeks. The crowd surrounding the casket fell into silence, graver than it already had been.

"My mother was loving. My mother was kind. She cared for me with the whole of her heart. For those of you that do not know me, I am Nina, daughter of Melanie and Lucius. Melanie was a mother and a wife. Her love for everyone was greater than I could ever imagine. To my mother, I bid adieu. With love, I bid farewell."

Nina dropped to a kneel beside her mother, face buried in her hands. A man proceeded down the aisle, face grave, shoulders proud. He carried another red candle, pinching the base of it in two fingers, twisting the candle so the melted droplets would not touch him. He stared straight ahead, his left hand tucked in his pocket.

"Melanie was my wife," he said blankly, setting his own candle beside Nina's. "She was kind and everyone loved her dearly. We shall prove to her as she watches from above, we shall prove to our beloved Melanie that even as we mourn, we shall not fall to our knees. We shall prove that the strength of her character has been infused in the very depths of our beings; she has given us all strength."

The man was of medium height and build, his jaw square and his features blockishly strong and masquline. The crowd said nothing to Lucius, but the same thought was clearly visible in their angry eyes. Every person attending the funeral knew that this man, for all his words and dark suit, was here only as a formality, a show of the emotion he lacked.

The rising grumble of disaproval never rose to fully voice itself, nobody daring to give volume to the murmurs. A third person, a lean, almost wirey man in a black suit trailed Lucius. He held a third candle in his left hand, pinched between his forefinger and thumb; the drops of hot wax did not seem to bother him. As he set the candle to the left of Nina's candle, the thin man turned back to the crowd, back straight as a ram rod.

"Melanie will be missed," he stated, breathless, "We wll all miss her."

His gaze seemed to fly away to another time, and his audience watched in silent admiration. The thin man went to stand in front of Lucius, leaning forward to whisper something in the larger man's ear. Lucius nodded and spoke quietly.

"I leave the rest of this to you, Alaster. Meet me in my office in thirty minute's time."

"Yessir." Alaster nodded his understanding and watched as Lucius and Nina retreated. When they were out of sight, Alaster pulled his sleeve up to glace at a watch on his arm. He pressed his mouth into a firm line and addressed the people standing in a dark cloud of black clothing and more flowers.

"Lucius will be returning to his home to mourn in private," he glanced around as the mourners grumbled in dissaproval. "I will be joining him shortly. When the sun sets, the altar will be burned with Melanie and her-" he choked for a moment, "her casket, as per custom. I will return then to light her parting fire."

Alaster's cool expression was breaking apart at the edges, the tears in his eyes about to fall. He turned away for a moment, blinking furiously and breathing hard.

"Forgive my weakness."

He swallowed, then dropped to his knees at the side of the casket. His hands gripped the edge of the wooden altar, the tips of his fingers turned white with the effort. After a few seconds, he stood and checked his watch again. His complexion paled considerably, then he looked up, eyes panic stricken.

Brushing the dirt off his knees as best he could, Alaster squared his shoulders and walked away. His retreating figure grew impossibly small as he broke into a run, passing through the tall iron gate of the courtyard.