Sophie
Sophie decided to write a letter to Mitya. This could be her final goodbye to the elderly woman, like Calla's to Sophie.
But she could never seem to get the letter right. Somehow, paper could not hold the same meaning as spoken words. She could not convey the emotion she felt. She could not show Mitya her grief, she could not show Mitya her gratitude. Because every time she tried to show one, it always got in the way of the other.
Twenty-seven crumpled up papers later, she fell back onto her bed, pressing her palms into her eyes. She let out a long sigh and glared at the new blank piece of paper on her desk.
"I hate the world," she muttered.
"I would hope not. I'm in it."
Somehow, Biana had gotten into the room without her knowing, but she wasn't surprised. Biana Vacker wasn't Agent Vanisher for no reason.
"This is so hard," Sophie said. She gestured to the papers littering her floor. "Why can't I write her something?"
Biana leaped gracefully onto the bed, sitting next to Sophie's hunched figure. She put a hand on the blonde's shoulder. "Maybe this is a bit like a break-up. You can't break up with someone over a text, or a note."
Sophie laughed half-heartedly. "Only you would use a break-up as an analogy to writing a letter to a dead person."
"How about you give the eulogy?" Biana asked. She rubbed Sophie's back like Edaline would do whenever Sophie was down. Wait...Edaline!
"I haven't spoken to Edaline since I got back!" Sophie exclaimed. "Or Grady! In fact, I haven't really talked to any of you!"
"That's fine," Biana said gently. "We all know this is tough for you."
Sophie buried her head in her hands. "Yeah, but I'm the Moonlark. How can I take over the Black Swan in the future if death follows me around like a puppy?"
"Sophie, no offense, but you're still human. Don't put yourself down like that. We don't expect you to be perfect."
"Well, I should at least be close to it!"
"Yeah, well, lots of bad things will happen because of you, but that doesn't mean it's your fault."
"I should be able to prevent it all!"
"No, you can't. Some things no one can stop from happening." Biana pushed back a strand of Sophie's hair. "Now, you're going to go out there, give the eulogy, cry a bit with everyone, but you'll know that everything's going to be alright."
Sophie smiled mirthlessly. "I still don't agree with everything you're saying. But you're right about something: I'm giving that eulogy."
***
Sophie wasn't the best at making good choices. Everyone knew that. Especially her. The fact that she let Biana and Vertina team up to prepare her for the funeral was only proof of that.
"So, an emerald green dress or an olive green dress?" Biana asked Vertina.
Yes, she meant green. The Black Swan believed that they should dress in green instead of black for a funeral since green was the color of life. Every funeral Sophie had ever been to, she had had to dress up in green. She didn't mind, though. The symbolism was beautiful.
"Ugh, I don't know," Vertina groaned. "Which one would clash with her eyes less?"
Biana pondered for a minute. "Emerald green?"
"Wouldn't hurt to try," Vertina sighed. She rummaged through Sophie's closet. Sophie was almost scared for when Vertina would reappear. Would she have to wear a sparkly, showy dress?
"This!" Sophie shielded her eyes as Vertina took out the dress. She was officially scared.
"I love it!" Biana squealed.
This would either be really good...or really bad.
"Sophie! Look!"
Sophie slowly peeked out from behind her hand. A silky emerald green dress was in Vertina's hands. So innocent. Yet so daunting.
Sophie carefully took it and disappeared into the bathroom. As she changed, she heard Vertina and Biana talking about what kind of shoes would look good with the dress.
She inhaled deeply and looked in the mirror. The top part fit snugly while the skirt billowed out. She twisted around, the skirt twisting as well.
The neckline wasn't low, though the back dipped a bit. The skirt went all the way to her knees. Overall, it was alright.
She opened the door, staring at the ground shyly.
"I can work with that," Vertina said.
"You look amazing, Sophie!" Biana said. She clapped excitedly and jumped up and down. "I'm fangirling so hard right now! You're so pretty!"
Sophie blushed and thanked Biana as Vertina led her to her seat.
"Gold eyeliner as usual," Vertina whispered as she took out her extensive make-up kit.
"You're going to look fabulous," Biana sang as she applied blush to Sophie's cheeks (not that she needed some. She blushed about five times a day.)
"You at least won't look like you got hit by a wrecking ball," Vertina said. She frowned. "Sophie, you really need to stop pulling out loose eyelashes. You're lucky you don't seem to favor one eye over the other. Otherwise, one eye would have about half as many eyelashes as the other!"
Sophie fidgeted self-consciously. "It helps me when I'm stressed."
"Are we sure it doesn't make you more stressed?" Vertina asked skeptically.
Sophie found her hand subconsciously reaching for her eyelashes and she stopped it. "It's just a habit. Like nail biting."
"You don't have that habit too, do you?"
"Vertina, leave her alone," Biana huffed. "We need to focus on our task at hand."
***
When Biana and Vertina were finally done torturing Sophie, they left to go get ready themselves. Sophie used the time alone to start writing the eulogy.
Before she knew it, it was time. A knock on her door yanked her out of her writing, and she hurried to open it.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi," Keefe said back. "Um, I just came to get you. And to show you these." He took out a relatively large bag and opened it to show Sophie the contents.
Dozens upon dozens of petals that looked exactly like those of a Panakes flower were inside. They were so realistic that Sophie almost cried and messed up her make-up (well, that wouldn't have been too bad. Then she would have had an excuse to show up with no make-up.)
"They're beautiful," Sophie murmured.
"They're not the only beautiful ones in this room." He winked at Sophie.
"Oh, shut up." She punched him playfully in the arm.
"Never. You love me too much for that. Now, do you have any idea where the funeral is?"
"Yes. Follow me."
She led him to where the funeral was supposed to take place, a big room with a domed ceiling and about a million pews. Everyone was already there, talking in hushed whispers.
And that was where everything started to get blurry.
She couldn't remember most of the funeral. All she remembered were her salty tears and her promises to herself and Mitya to stay strong. All she remembered were her shaky breaths and trembling hands.
It was only when she had to give the eulogy that everything started to get clearer. That the lense on this moment of her life sharpened.
"Mitya was like the grandmother of all. She was what held us all together in the hardest of times. She never discriminated, or anything. She was always there.
"I remember, when I was little, sometimes I would get frustrated. So I would go to the kitchen. And she would be there, cooking a delicious meal or baking a sweet cake. She was always there to listen. Sometimes, Calla would be there, too, and they would be the ultimate team. They could get anything out of you, and they always knew the right thing to say. When I first lived here, I thought they were mother and daughter.
"Mitya has been here so long that I couldn't imagine the Black Swan without her. I didn't think I would ever have to. But now, I recognize all she has done for us. Because she was one of the people that stopped us from turning into the Neverseen. She made this place so homey and comfortable that we never forgot our roots or why we were here.
"And she saved us. If it wasn't for her, we might all have the Black Plague. But thanks to her, we managed to find the cure. We owe so much to her.
"However, if she were here, she wouldn't want us to mourn her. She would want us to remember. So remember the glue that held us together. Remember our family. Because she was- and still is- a hero."
Throughout her speech, tears streamed freely down her face, but not once did her voice waver.
"Thank you, Sophie," she heard Lur mumble.
"It's Mitya we should thank," Sophie said. "Not me."
And that was when cloaked figures rained down.