Marigold
Marigold looked at Aeron sadly, and passed a hand through his wild hair.
"I know that you would die in her place. It is well that you love her so. Love her still! And cherish her memory!"
She is not far.
Marigold could feel the light touch of the boy's sister on the cold marshy breeze; it had been that which led her to them. Some purpose lay in that. These were words she could not say, so she spoke not of it. This boy would have to learn its meaning as he could. Dreams lay thick as a many layered weaving around these folk, dreams she could almost see and hear; but they were not hers, and once they left her, those dreams would depart with them. She would do what she could for them.
"I have a boon to ask of you, Aeron." She used his name, having heard it from the young Ranger. He looked up into her eyes. "Though her ghost has left the body, her life was sweet and good, and full of love, not least for you, and I would be grateful if her body's presence could bless my home. And you could stay here for as long as you like, and if you choose to go, you could return as often, as for as long as you wish. Would you permit your sister to be buried here?"
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