The year was 2135.
The hilltop grass bent lazily as a gentle breeze meandered its way through, blowing past a man who stood holding the hand of a small boy. The boy held out an urn to the man who looked lost in thought, peering at the horizon where the last rays of twilight stretched across the sky, bestowing it with a red hue.
The man finally took the urn from the small boy and shook it causing fine dust to take to the air. The wind caught the dust, twisting and swirling it towards the horizon. The pair watched the dust rise until it dissipated. After a few minutes, there was nothing remaining from the contents of the urn except memories.
Farther down the hill, a group of onlookers talked in hushed voices.
“Do you think they’ll be ok?” the young lady asked.
“Ikaros was always independent before they met, but they were so in love, he’ll never be the same,” an older woman answered.
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Close friends and family were gathered at the bottom of the hill. After the ceremony, it had been decided that Ikaros and his son would throw the ashes off the large hill into the wind, a symbolic gesture signifying that they were letting Laine go.
“What about the boy?” the young lady asked.
“He is too young to understand, but anyone that age would miss their mother terribly,” the older woman said.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” a man interjected. “Laine was so proud of him she showed me his aptitude scores, and they were off the charts.”
“In what way?” the young lady asked.
“I’m not an expert, but I’m fairly sure he broke the test. All I could see were one hundreds,” the man said.
“What will he do? With scores like that, he should surely go to the Fortescue Academy on scholarship,” she said.
“We should be more concerned with counselling and day-to-day affairs,” the older woman replied. “Will you go and see them? Make sure they’re alright?”
The trio were interrupted by a woman in a hoverchair turning to face them. Tears were streaming down her face, and she struggled to speak. “I will look after him. Always,” she said emphatically before attempting to move away.
“Cisse, don’t,” the young lady said and went to grab the chair. “Oh dear, why this chair? Please, Cisse, you’re all alone; come home with me tonight.”
“I’m fine,” Cisse said in a determined tone and scooted off, leaving the small crowd behind.