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  1. Jullus tugged his thick cloak tighter to his body as he stepped into the cold mausoleum, alone. The stone building making things colder in the October brisk breeze, and his bones ached. Or maybe it was just his soul bleeding into his body. He rarely haunted the places where his family's ashes were entombed. He had no need for such sentiments when he could find traces of his father, mother and even his dead brothers in his young boys, their mother as well ... and the hint of what could have been if the second of this three boys had lived. His living daughter was a corporeal ghost that had been left behind when the purge took her sisters. Just as he did not need a reminder of the second man his mother had wed; for his blue eyes and laughter was well placed in the daughters Natta had littered among his family before leaving them behind. No, it was the truth. He didn't need a cold urn filled with ash to remind him of those people. It was his twin's ghost, however, that he searched and searched for. Finding it in neither daughter nor remaining son. How he longed for her closeness as he aged and took on more and more as a man of his family. Her wisdom spoken over wine and candle light, late hours kept when nothing more was to be done with the day. It irked him how very little time he truly had with her, and how much time life seem to be granting him in his life. He came upon her urn easily, and with gentle hands he lifted it from its resting place. Taking the corner of his cloak he wiped it clean of the collected dust and then the spot where it had rested at among the others. Erasing the ring of dust that indicated that something had been there. Then he placed it back, with reverence. It still didn't sit right to him. That she was ash and he was not, and how much he would have given to have been in her place. "You deserved so much more than this." He muttered, loudly, to himself and the ghosts he could not see. @Gothic
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