Lewis shook his head in reply to Leossa, still really wondering about his uncle's last few moments alive. Could it be true that the man accepted his death after spending such a long time trying to prevent it? He sighed, unsure about it all.

The funeral was exactly as Lewis had predicted. Many people turned up, mostly old scientists and their wives. They were all clambering to sympathise with Lewis, even though he really didn't want the extra attention. He waved them all away with short 'thank yous' to the mourners.

When the service started, he sat on the front row with Leossa, listening to the various people speak about his uncle. He was growing bored near the end of it, and was glad to duck away during the reception. He brought Leossa with him, turning once they left the funeral home. "Are you OK?" he asked the man, having noticed the watering eyes. He really wished that the mourners would have even acknowledged Leossa, and all the hard work the man had done for his uncle. He had been the one that was there when he died, after all.

The drive to town was a long, quiet one. Perhaps both of them were thinking long about the situation at hand, or what led up to it. Ralis had seemed content with accepting death, but did he really? Was it just a manner of making Leossa feel better about losing yet another master, yet another member of this once long, prosperous family? He couldn't even begin to consider how long he had been with them. While Ralis had been, in his mind, one of the most prolific, he wasn't the one that had started this obsession with death---or lack thereof.

Once they were there he stood right behind Lewis, a watchdog of sorts ready to be called upon at the drop of a hat, ushering on old friends of his previous master when they coddled Lewis too much. He was given passing nods, and little else beyond double-takes when they saw his eye. He didn't like any of this. The way they didn't care to understand Lewis's detachment from his uncle, the way such strong sadness had fallen away when he had been sent to the city because of his illness. He didn't feel a sense of entitlement, of course---didn't feel much more than an internal grief. If he'd only been better... Maybe Ralis would have reached his destination. Avoided the otherwise inevitable. During the service he kept his eyes forward steadfast and controlled any outward show of emotion beyond some probably-obvious tears. But he didn't let them fall. He kept his head up until Lewis drew him along, outside the building.

Leossa was rather surprised to hear Lewis's concern. But glad. Lewis seemed to care. "I'm fine." He said, and it was only half a lie. He would be fine soon, like he always was. "I've been to plenty of these, after all." He offered. "I... doubt it'll be my last." But he hoped otherwise. Outliving his masters and their families had become tiresome. Depressing. "Would you like to leave now, Master Lewis? I believe any remaining organizations will come from his old friends, and myself." Lewis didn't have to be present at the actual burial, after all. It was so unnecessary. And the long walk uphill at the funeral home could't be good for him.

Lewis was impressed. He had only ever been to his parents' funeral, but then he was too young to remember it. It seemed tiresome and boring, but perhaps the activity felt different if you actually cared for the person inside the wake. Lewis hadn't seen his uncle for years, and seeing the shriveled shell of the man he once knew made him more afraid of Death. Was it lurking? He kept looking over his shoulder, as though expecting a hooded figure to be standing behind him.

"Yes, I am growing weary," he said to his guardian. "It's so bothersome, these things... They speak about my uncle like he was a God... But if he really was... He wouldn't be dead... About to burn to ash and rot in the ground for eternity..." He shuddered, just thinking about it. The Ralis family had never been a religious sort, basing their beliefs around concrete evidence and science. But there were times, while laying in agony in his bed, that he had prayed. He wondered if God had listened.