Chapter 23. Funeral

Rain was pouring down, steadily drumming on the ground. The noise was deafening, yet it still couldn't drown his mother's wails. As Jules watched the coffin being lowered into the grave, her cries echoed inside his head, and his ears seemed to ring.

Today was his father's funeral. A formality more than anything, considering they had no body to bury. There were not many people present, either. Only his uncle, aunt, and a few trustworthy friends had been invited, amounting to five people.

The cemetery was thus empty, a painful sight to see. But Jules was aware of the reason, so he turned a blind eye to it and suppressed the pain.

His mother wanted to keep Zack's funeral low-key, knowing that shouting it from the rooftops was a foolish thing to do. It'd risk alerting people she'd rather not catch the attention of. Some beings should never discover that her husband, the esteemed archangel Zadkiel, had founded a family in the mortal realm and birthed half-bloods with a human woman. If ill-intentioned people were to find out about it, it'd put Jules and Annabelle in danger. An archangel's bastards were too much of a rarity, and she knew supernatural beings and hunters alike would shed blood to get their hands on her kids.

Zack had gone to great lengths to keep his children hidden from the world, and Elisa wouldn't go around destroying his efforts only to offer him a "proper" burial. At any rate, funerals were held to help the livings mourn their loved ones, but the dead couldn't care less, their bodies already icy cold. So, a ceremony with few people in a secluded church was enough. Her husband wouldn't have asked for more; as long as they kept him in their hearts, he'd be happy.

Something squirmed in his arms, and Jules shifted his gaze to his sister. She had gripped his shirt and tugged on his collar, her pale gray eyes innocently staring at him. Since their father's death, she hadn't cried, not even once. She was oddly silent.

These past few days, Jules had started to miss her outbursts. Without his sister's loud wails and his father's hearty laughs, the house had grown quiet. A little too quiet, even.

A tired smile stretched his lips, and Jules gently kissed his sister's forehead. "Don't worry, Anna. Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

The words left a bitter taste in his mouth. How was everything fine? His father was murdered for reasons he couldn't comprehend, and they had been deprived of his warmth. He would never hear him laugh again, and his clingy hugs were now a thing of the past.

Annabelle snuggled against his chest, pushing her little head against his chin. She gurgled out unintelligible sounds, chirping things only a baby could understand. It made Jules chuckle and momentarily forget about the wrenching pain.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying."

His sister puffed out her chubby cheeks like a pufferfish, almost looking offended. She seemed to snort before curling up into a ball in his arms, trying to hide her head in the crook of his elbow. It left Jules feeling a little helpless. Why was she angry now…?

"I think she was asking for another kiss," a gentle voice resounded by his ear, and Jules lifted his eyes toward the man standing beside him. "Annabelle seems quite fond of hugs and kisses."

Jules stared at Greg, his father's closest friend, and didn't answer immediately.

After the ceremony ended at the church, they ventured outside and walked throughout the woods to this small, hidden cemetery. Greg had followed behind him, opening an umbrella and tilting it over his head to shelter him and his sister from the rain. It left his right shoulder at the mercy of the weather, and his black suit had long grown wet, sticking to his body like a second skin. But he didn't seem to mind it, the corner of his eyes wrinkled in a smile. His charcoal gray hair, stripped with whitish strands, was pulled back, revealing his forehead and clear eyes. He looked old yet young at the same time, a weird discrepancy that had always made Jules feel unsettled.

"Yeah," Jules eventually smiled, "she's like our father in that aspect. She's not even one year old, but she already tends to wrap her limbs around our forearms like an octopus, and it's hell to peel her off when she doesn't want to let go. Dad was the same when he wanted a hug."

"Right. Zack had always been the clingy type, the polar opposite of your mother."

Jules let out a faint chuckle and nodded, remembering how his father would cling to Elisa in the kitchen and anger her with his stickiness. She'd then wave a pan and threaten to hit him if he didn't let her cook in peace. Honestly, the house had always been lively with his father around; it was noisy but so warm. Now, the atmosphere had grown cold and silent.

"I've been wanting to ask you something," Jules said, the light in his eyes dimming.

"Hm?"

"How long have you known my father?"

Greg raised an eyebrow, then smiled faintly. "For most of my life, I'd say. The first time I met him, I was around your age.…." Greg's voice trailed, and something seemed to twinkle in his pale blue eyes. A second passed before he finally winked, "And I'm over a few hundred years old now, so we've known each other for quite a long time. To me, your father was like a big brother, and my wife shares the feeling. We have always looked up to him and followed him around like ducklings. It's hard to believe that he is gone."

Jules glanced at Veronica, Greg's wife. She was crouching beside his mother, gently stroking her back. "So, you two aren't humans?"

"Strictly speaking, we are. Witches simply tend to have long lives.

"Witches…?"

"Yes, witches! Though we aren't as ugly as humanity made us to be. My nose isn't that big!" Greg laughed, tapping the tip of his nose. Now that Jules knew Zack was an archangel and that he was a half-blood, there was no need to pretend to be an ordinary human around him. The teen would come to know that many species made up this world, so Greg didn't bother to hide his true nature. "To be honest, Zack saved Veronica and me from burning at the stake when we were young, just like a superhero."

Greg smiled sadly, things he'd rather forget flooding his mind. Even though he was already this old, his memory hadn't defaulted him and that fateful day was still as clear as day.

Hundreds of years ago, a group of hunters had found his tribe and had deemed its people as wicked beings, even though Greg's tribe had always lived secluded from the world and never caused any harm to human settlements. Their peaceful lifestyle didn't matter to the hunters, however, and they started to hunt them down like hyenas, burning everyone they got their hands on regardless of their gender and age. It had been a slaughter, and Greg and Veronica were in the last batch to be "purified" by fire.

After watching their kin being burned alive, their parents and siblings included, it was Greg's and Veronica's turn. They struggled with everything they had, kicking and cursing, but they were just teenagers in the end. They couldn't fight back against experienced hunters, who had kept the weakest for the last, getting rid of the strongest first.

The teenagers had just been tied to the stake when Zadkiel showed up, furious beyond belief by what the hunters had done. If they were so fond of burning others, then they should burn to ashes themselves. That had been Zadkiel's words at the time, and an archangel's ire was truly a sight to behold. Everything was engulfed in fire within a second, and nothing was left.

But that awe-inspiring sight was ruined shortly afterward by Zadkiel's crying face.

This all-powerful being apologized for arriving late, hugging the few children and teenagers who had survived the slaughter. And later, he provided for the kids, taking them under his wings. Some left, and some, like Greg and Veronica, stayed.

"Anyway," Greg brushed off the matter, not wanting to discuss it with Jules, "your father was a good man, and you can be proud to be his son."

Tears welled in his eyes, but Jules held them back. He remembered what his mother had told him a few days ago, about his father's "real work" and who had most likely killed him, and anger rose in his chest. "I just don't understand why he helped out hunters! From what I heard, they're assholes beyond savings. They should just die and rot in hell!"

"Many are maniacs you can't reason with, true. But many also fight to protect humans and supernatural beings alike. Jules, there are rotten apples in every organization, and that will never change. Don't condemn them all because of a few."

The teenager pursed his lips. Greg was saying the same thing as his father, but the hatred had already sprouted in his heart, and he couldn't extinguish it so easily. It was devouring him from the inside out, driving him mad. Why should he let the matter go…? His family were the victims and had the right to ask for the murderers' heads! But no one wanted him to enact revenge, not even his mother.

"Then," Jules's voice broke, "what should I do?"

"That, I do not know. I'm sorry, child."

Silence fell, and Jules hugged his sister tighter. He wanted his father back, but that was something that would never happen. He was dead, gone from this world forever. Jules had to get used to the idea, and whether he could mend his broken heart afterward, only time would tell. All he knew was that one day, he'd unleash his wrath and bring down the culprits to their knees. He could never forgive them, and he'd make them pay.

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Edited by Clozed! ♥

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