As they lowered his empty coffin into the decomposition vat, Willow let out a strangled sort of wail, and that did it for me. I collasped into Fern's chest, sobbing as I had never before in my life.
My mother was quite the oppoiste, Skye was the picture of composition. I guess, she couldn't cry anymore. I guess, all of her tears were spent. She had let them run so freely days before, when she wept for her husband, her widowed state, and her fatherless children, but now, she could weep no more. She knew that my father's body wasn't in that coffin - it had been devoured. She wasn't saying good-bye to him in that instant; she already had.
Beside her stood Cassandra Vinyaya, trying to keep her composure. She wiped a few tears from her eyes, but stayed strong for her close friend. As my mother's shoulders began to shake, she gingerly placed her arms around her, supporting her. Skye was less stable than she looked. . .
At a short distance, my father's two friends stood. Briar Cudgeon bowed his head, looking at the floor - too ashamed to meet my mother's eye or look anyone else in the face. Silent tears streamed down his face for the loss of a friend. In contrast, Julius Root stood stoically watching my father's casket vanish, though as I regarded him, his eyes never moved. Though he seemed to be gazing at his far-gone friend, he seemed to be actually deep in thought - either that or trying to block the whole event from his mind. . .
After the ceremony, I was left with a numb feeling. I believe, it was at that moment, I realized that I would never see him again, but I had dried my tears, and they didn't spring forth again.
Like my mother, I have decided to cry no longer. It is time for me move on, well, as best I can. . .
I'll break the news to Skye tomorrow. I'll confess my plans. . .