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RP: YSS Kaiyō Pre-Mission 18: To the dead, may they rest eternal

SchererSoban

Office of post cheer.
Convention Veteran
OCC: As always I write with abit of a musical theme. This post was written with two songs and thought i'd share them here. Crescent Moon and Sad Farwell.

IC

YSS Kaiyo II
VR Room.

Wulf was walking alone to the vr room in his type 35 uniform. Today was a special day for the young solider and was a tradition he had never skipped out on . Stopping in-front of the door he double checked to make sure it was not occupied for this somber event that was about to play out. Happy to see his reservation was still there and the room was free for him. Speaking softly “Boss please run vr program Soban Romeo One”. Seeing the verification and confirmation of his request he nodded his thanks as he stepped into the Vr Room.

As the doors closed behind him he spoke softly again “Please lock the door Boss I don't want to be disturbed”. Pausing before taking another step “And thank you”. Though it wasn't needed it felt right to say that as he took in the view of the program. To the solider raised from youth as a solider there was one place in the galaxy that felt like home.

As he looked out into the night sky he saw so many familiar sights. In the back drop was a ancient mountain range that growing up him and his fellow orphans trained vigorously on. Near a artificial a lake a large main building stood out, built older Yamatai that some may think would look close to the Imperial palace. Lastly in the center of his view was a lake with a statue resting in the middle, a angel of war with her arms raised to the moon as if offering something to old gods.

As he walked slowly towards the lake he studied the woods around him. Every inch of this place he could remember and it was so artistically brought to life here you wouldn't know that he was far beyond the planets reach. He didn't know who created this program either, memory of it was lost so long ago but yet it always updated in time for the event. He wondered if the genius behind it was some one famous but wanted to be anonymous or was it some fault of the orphanages.

Shaking his head as he arrived at the stone bridge that would lead to the center of the lake. Those thoughts didn't matter and only this event with its memory. As he looked out he saw the moonlight reflected on its water. One of the few places on the world you could see the ancient moons reflected so perfectly. It was so peaceful and many nights did he spent out here just staring out at the moon dreaming of the stars.

Continuing his walk he grabbed a small box that was on top of the bridge post. A traditional piece always here that he would need for later. As he clutched the box under his arm he slowly walked across the bridge. The old stone bridge showed its age, though carefully maintained you could feel the weight of history as you strode across the bridge. Each step felt like walking in the very halls of history as you closed the distance with the center.

Finally arriving at the center platform he knelt to the statue. Averting his gaze out of respect for the symbol of the orphanage. Despite not looking at it he could recall every part of it. Her face was upwards and aligned with the moon at the right time of night. Her arms outstretched almost like vainly trying to catch the moon it looked upon or some would say like releasing something. She was clad in simple robes that tugged tightly to her light frame, with a empty sword sheath. By her bare feet lay a pile of broken swords, a symbol for all the fallen dead that was placed at rest here.


Standing up he looked at the face of the angel. The thing that always pulled at Wulf was how sad she looked. The artist who rendered it captured true sorrow in it that speaks of a well of despair and sadness. Muttering a silent prayer that no one he knew would ever had such a look if he passed from this world.

Walking over to the edge of the platform with his back to the angel he looked out at the almost empty lake. The clear water finally revealing what was hidden underneath. The lake being so shallow you could see now that there was old grey stone mixed with mechanical arms that popped up in a few places as they did there duty. He watched one arm close by quickly itch with a laser into the stone, burning away the water in its heat. For those that don't know it was micro carving a name of some one who died.

Not just any one but some one related to a orphan of this place. May it be the parents of those that would attend here, or a former solider who died after leaving here. It could also be a child of some one previously. The common note was they all served for the empire and had fought then lastly died in its name. As he looked out in the lake he saw so many arms move at once he wonder how many had passed away this year.

Then all at once the arms stopped moving. Each one retracted to the water below and Wulf knew what was to come next. The only time it stopped was once a year at the annotated time. Across the galaxy if you served far away if you where able to communicate with the homeworld you can run this program and it would work in real time to show you what would come next.

Kneeling down next to the lake he placed the box onto the water. Then activating a switch on it turned the box into a floating lamp. It's edges dropped and showing almost like a single candle. As he looked up what was just his one light turned to many as more of this floating lamps appeared from all over the galaxy. Hundred would appear and he kept kneeling as he watched the lights float off into the lake.

To this day it was one thing that always moved him. Across the void orphans, and a extended family mourned the dead together. A thousand lights to guide the dead home, a thousand cries to those on the other side to know we missed them. He hoped that they would listen to those lost children left behind.


Saying a pray he always said each year “By the moonlights crescent may the lost be found”. Feeling a tightness in his chest “May they find peace in death when life offered them none”. Stopping for a moment to look at the moon both a inspiration but also a family symbol. As he stared at the night sky he felt his heart call out to those lost “Be at rest and know that your duty is done”. And for the last verse he spoken at almost a mouse whisper as he closed his eyes “Till next time we meet my family I look forward to catching up”.





His prayer done to the dead the ranger would linger. He would wait till all the lights faded out and the night became day. His last duty was to make sure that they all where not left alone till they crossed. So another year had passed and the dead was left to slumber.
 
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