EPILOGUE
GISELLA
The townsfolk weren’t the enemy I feared when our world brought demons to their doors.
In the wake of our calamity, Sebastian folded around me, expecting their harm to fall on both our shoulders, which we deserved.
Their blows never came.
Minette’s body was shifted with the rest of the burning night’s casualties to the lawn until we worked out logistics of gravesites. A place behind the maze that caught the morning light was chosen by the staff who could see and speak to their friends throughout the day. Who were we to object?
As much as I couldn't bear the sight of her sheet covered body, worse was Charleton and Sebastian’s procession through the maze bearing Dolion in their straining arms, but they refused all assistance offered. Pallbearers of a different sort, I was certain Sebastian could have borne the gargoyle alone, but Charleton refused to budge and so they shared the weight of the job.
Once they reached the fountain, they set the stone man on his pedestal where he overlooked the ash and smoke remains of the house. Unlike the staff, we buried Minette next to Dolion, and I planted irises and poppies around her, visiting them both each day as I wrote out the history I’d acquired of all who had fallen around Amy—Anitta–though I omitted her names from the pages, unwilling to mar their passing with the taint of what she made of the lives sacrificed in lieu of hers.
Instead of the fear and hatred we expected, the townsfolk adopted us, spent hours cleaning the house, the rooms that remained, helping us rebuild during daylight hours. More than one of the old and a few younger servants had told stories of Sebastian’s strange sort of lordship and though the new world wasn’t about the old ways, they seemed to see his new start as a chance at acceptance and welcomed us in.
While Sebastian worked on alone once the sun rested in the evenings, doubling their efforts, I sat in the evenings, filling in journal after journal. I barely saw him in those days. Charleton often accompanied him, working shoulder to shoulder in silence with his master, earning more than a friend’s place at his side.
Knowledge of the night’s event swarmed over the fledgling community. We were amazed at the assistance of the townspeople who helped rebuild the house once the greater structure was complete. What could have been ruined by fear created a foundation every person who worked on restoring the house made a claim on, and was welcomed in.
A turnabout on their respect, opening our arms to bring them in. Perhaps if that barrier of fear hadn’t been there in the first place, the superstitions of old following us across oceans and a few extra monsters, we wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place.
And so, with open secrets arming us all, Sebastian opened the doors once the building was complete, welcoming every person who placed a stone atop the walls into his existence, refusing to keep secrets. Inside I knew he was as torn and conflicted by the events. In hiding away from the world, he had created his own enemy. I was pleased to see him try something new in the aftermath.
Trust.
A new experience for him, but we made it work.
We sent word to the wolves, but they never responded, preferring to hide within the bayou’s limits, protecting their own.
I didn’t blame them in the least.
Removing the bodies that littered the drive was the first job we dealt with after the fire. I undertook the responsibility of ensuring their names and what stories of them we knew were recorded in the family bible, my task once the journals of that night’s events were complete, and stored in the house’s new library.
That I had once been exhausted by writing out invitations seemed a poor farce on my penance.
Each day, I sat with Minette and Dolion, waiting for the day the gargoyle's heart would heal, painting the gardens and the house to bring new memories to our home along with those not present to share it. My days and nights began to blur to match Sebastian’s routine, and I would rest those few brief hours around daybreak until I could be with him again.
In time, a small girl with a head of dark hair to match Sebastian’s came from a land far across the ocean to seek him as her final relative. Beside me she learned to talk to the stone man where he sat upon his fountain, telling him stories of fantasy lands and the town boys who teased her strange appearance and odd speech and unageing skin long after my accent faded along with my youth.
Dolion’s presence remained a comfort to us both as she developed much slower and I grew older, and aged. All the while Sebastian, of course, remained the same.
Perhaps in some unknown future world, he would find peace as I had with my own immortal. Despite watching his face every day as the seasons passed, he never moved or changed, maintaining his penance over Minette’s grave.
I hoped one day, his stone heart would learn to beat again.