For as long as he could remember, Deo had proudly taken up his parent's line of work. Somewhat.
The graveyard was well-kept, visitors were tended to, and the deceased were respected. Memories of them were kept alive through stories and song, those who once knew them making sure they were remembered. After all, Deo subscribed to the idea that as long as someone was remembered, they would never truly die. They would live on through those who remained and came after.
However, a few years into the work- that he loved, he would tell you- he found that simply tending to the dirt was...well. It didn't feel like he was doing enough. He was a bystander to death and memory, not a participant. No, it wasn't like he could die and do more that way, but simply standing around and making sure everything was clean was something that he was...well, he was good at it, but he was almost too good.
Even with his jars of grave dirt taken from each and every burial he witnessed, it didn't seem enough. It wouldn't be enough to connect with those he looked over and took care of, and it all felt...well, it was stale. Sanitized.
It was on the day he spied a small white flower poking out from the mound that covered a long-gone stallion's final resting place that he had an inkling of an idea.
Yes, everything was clean and pretty...but what if he didn't clear everything? What if he allowed life to burst forth from the deceased? What if he didn't clear every bit of vegetation that popped up on burial spots? What if he tended to them instead?
It was an interesting enough idea, yet he wasn't sure how well he could execute it. He dealt in the business of death, which was obviously antithesis to what flowers represented. A stallion of death and decay trying to tend to the bursting life of flowers?
Well, he at least had one parent he could turn to for that.
Farrah was understanding, and she could not, in good faith, try to dissuade her son. Especially when he, unlike her daughter, had been alone for so, so long and was constantly looking for things to do. Him helping both herself and Gravior with their tasks was welcome but...he did need something uniquely him. and if he could marry life and death in such a unique way...
Deo had his mother's blessing. And with that blessing, he slowly let his graveyard become absolutely covered in flowers, vines, grasses, and so much other vegetation.
It wasn't like he meant for it to get overwhelming, but at some point he lost control. Burial markers strangled by vines, the walkways overrun with thorned branches, and even a tree had sprouted that seemed to attract bugs that attacked the flowers he had been hoping to keep around. Two trees, actually, and both of them had sprouted where it was hard to reach; behind the little crypt. If he was smaller he could easily squeeze behind and uproot them, but he was just too large. He didn't know any Usdia's to call upon, and there was no way he could recruit a foal to do something that was essentially hard labor. Mayhaps if he asked his mother she could, as she was able to change her size...
Wait, that was the...entire solution! While his mother's wings were undersized, he had somehow lucked out and inherited her abilities of the race he knew as 'Fae'. He could easily shrink down and uproot the trees himself...if he were stronger. Uprooting was going to be a tiring job, and he found himself taking several weeks just working on digging up the trees and their roots. Yes, he could have just battered them down, but he couldn't risk the roots getting out of control.
And once he was finished, finally, after weeks and weeks...He then had to work on the rest of the graveyard.
Thankfully, in the time it took for him to deal with the trees behind the crypt, he'd made two friends; Dvalin, also known as Stormterror, and Rynne Sidhe- Rynne. The pair were playful, and had initially arrived at the graveyard after the both of them has gotten lost during a storm a ways away. Deo was worried, at first, that the two of them would cause havoc, as Rynne exhibited come traits that he was used to seeing with troublemakers.
Dvalin, however, kept Rynne in check it seemed, at first, and they offered their services in cleaning up the graveyard. Rynne took care of the smaller jobs, expertly shrinking down to get into crevices that were inaccessible to both Deo and Dvalin. Dvalin, for his part, used his size to his advantage, digging up stubborn plantation that neither of the smaller soquili could muster the strength for.
With the pair, the work took what felt like little time at all.
And even once they were finished, Rynne decided the pair should hang around, so she could help Deo with cultivating the flowers that he didn't want to remove. Even on the hottest days, Deo and Rynne were sheltered by the shade of Dvalin's wings, and his ability to manipulate air brought a soothing breeze without disturning their growing garden.
At one point, they spied mushrooms. While Deo originally freaked out, thinking the fungus was going to destroy his growing garden, Rynne assured him that if he took care of them correctly, he could grow and cultivate mushrooms as well. Especially since they seemed to favore one part of of the graveyard and didn't seem to be able to spread further. Or, as Rynne said they said to her, they respected Deo's boundaries and knew where they were supposed to stay.
By the time Dvalin and Rynne departed, the two of them having sensed a change in the winds that told them it was time to go...Life had covered the domain of the dead.
Flowers decorated the land. Visible, tangible memories of the deceased.
He had brought forth life from death.
And Deo thought it was beautiful.
