2. Miri – Part 2 [Myriam PoV]
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Our holy temple was shattered. Giant obelisks now formed walls where there had been none the previous day. Molten rocks had spread through the streets and were still glowing brightly, while countless icicles hung from the roofs of buildings as if a blizzard had suddenly struck.

And then there were the bodies… some of them lying in a row on the ground, others being dragged away into burial cocoons. This was the second time I’d seen such a cocoon, the first being when one of the old ladies in the market had died. That had only been one cocoon and it still had taken a couple of hours for her sons to dig a hole large enough for it. With these many people to bury, it would take at least a whole day.

Still holding me against her, Nessa eventually sat on her porch bench and tried to comfort me. We did not move for quite some time.

I experienced the rest of the day as if I were a bystander. I watched Ched wipe me clean of the remaining ashes. I watched myself being fed by Nessa. I watched myself being hugged by men and women who seemed familiar, even in the bloody and distraught state they were in. I watched myself being laid onto a bed, being covered by dark brown wools, while someone else put a child into a crib next to me.

 

 

Name         : Kai Light

Race         : Human/Light Elf

Class        : -

Level        : -

 

 

I watched myself falling asleep.

 

***

 

"Myriam, child, wake up,” I heard Nessa say, hours later, her hand gently squeezing my shoulder. “We have to say goodbye.”

My parents, I thought. I remembered Ched telling me they were with The Divine now. But I knew that this was just what grown-ups told children when people died.

But I am not a child anymore. How can I be? How can I still consider myself a child?

I’d acted as a child during the battle, hiding in a chimney while my parents got killed protecting me. I would not be a child anymore. I would not be weak again. I would be strong. For them.

We started walking toward the hill on the outskirts of the village. In the far distance, beyond the hill, I could see thick black smoke. The gentle winds were slowly directing the smoke westward, and I wished the winds were stronger… strong enough to make all this blackness disappear out of sight.

I saw lots of people gathered in a wide circle. Their expressions were pained. There was not a single person there who had not lost someone they held dear to their hearts. I saw other children crying as they realized they were seeing their parents for the last time. But not me. I would bid them farewell and not a single tear would touch my skin.

Upon reaching the gathered crowds, we stopped at the edge of a giant pit. There used to be five oak trees in that exact spot, which meant this was the work of a powerful mage. The earth had been scooped out in a perfect hemisphere, and in the pit were the cocoons of all those who had fallen. The bluish hue of the web-like cocoons emanated a faint glow under the rising sun.

The faces of the dead were the only parts not yet covered, so I was able to instantly recognize my mother’s freckled face, surrounded by her curly, orange hair. Next to her, my father was almost smiling in his eternal sleep, his dark thick beard groomed as if he was going to attend the decennial ritual ceremony. They both looked so peaceful… almost happy.

No matter how hard I focused my eyes on them, I could not call any information about them. Not their level, nor their class. Nothing. It was as if I was looking at trees.

They must be part of The Divine now.

After staring at my parents for a few minutes, fighting the urge to cry, I scanned the rest of the pit. I recognized all of the faces in the cocoons. Merchants and workers, pub and tavern crawlers, men and women alike. The three priests were encased in golden cocoons at the center of the pit.

But if all of the priests were killed during the attack, who is going to perform the ceremony?

I took a second look at the people standing on the edge of the pit, and noticed the white and golden garments of what could have only been an archpriest, moving to the front. His clothes were whiter than any white I had seen, with only the golden inlays disturbing its perfect purity. His conical hat was also inlaid with golden thread, shaping the crest of the Holy Order—a grand archmage’s staff next to a small, liturgical dagger, the symbol of our church. In his hands he held a large staff with a ruby on top, which emitted red rays where the sunbeams touched it.

To my astonishment, I saw a similar figure next to him. This one wore the same clothes and hat, but was female. She was holding an equally large staff, though hers had an emerald sitting on top. This could only mean they were Imar and Cheandra, the only archpriest couple in the ranks of the Holy Order. They must have been sent here to perform the ceremony.

Their two children stood next to Cheandra. One was a girl of around seventeen, carrying a small wand and wearing loose cyan robes with silver linings. She held the hand of a boy with long, dark hair who seemed to be my age, or maybe even ten years old, but not more. He wore dark blue robes but had no wand or staff, which meant he had not yet received his mana.

The archpriestess raised her staff and green light began to emanate from it in pulses. The pulses became less frequent as all heads were turned toward her, then the staff’s base touched the ground once more and the pulses stopped. I felt Ched’s thick fingers touch my shoulders. He let them rest there.

"It is a sad day,” the archpriestess said, “for we are bidding so many of our kin farewell. To all who sacrificed themselves, we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts. Let us tell you one last time that we love you.”

A muffled “I love you” spread through the crowd, but only the strongest ones managed to complete the simple, three-word sentence. I was not one of them for I did not even dare open my mouth.

"Ours is not a vengeful kind,” continued the archpriestess, as her staff started to glow again. “But let it be heard through the heavens, the hells, and everywhere in between. As sure as the bodies of our enemies burn in the village right now, so will the rest of those who fled. This is not to say that rage and hunger for vengeance should consume us, but that we must find peace of mind in the promise that the Order will serve justice.”

Indeed, the expressions of those present did not seem burdened with anger but rather they seemed empty. It was as if their anger had been washed away with their tears, blown with the smoke of their enemies’ burned bodies.

"Let us remember with love all those who lost their lives today,” she continued as she turned her gaze toward the living once more. “Let us cherish the memories of our dearly beloved. We bid you farewell, and know this… Until we meet again, we will never forget you,” the archpriestess shouted, as the light from her staff became bright.

The cocoons began shining, and slowly covered the faces of the dead. Screams of emotional pain and cries of the loved ones’ names filled the air as the final beds of the fallen became almost too bright to look at. The cocoons were swallowed by the earth and large pillars of light shot up into the sky to replace them. Once the light dissipated, bright green trees appeared in the pit and, as the light vanished, the trees’ branches spread open, creating a small forest. Thick-trunked baobab trees and sequoias, tall fir and cypress trees, planes and pines and all sorts of plant life suddenly created a beautiful magical forest of memories.

"Let this be a monument for our kindred.” The archpriestess’s voice was strong. “As long as this forest casts its shadow on hot summer days and holds snow on cold winter nights, so will our memories of them remain strong.”

Ched’s fingers released some of the pressure on my shoulder, and sighs of relief came from most of the gathered villagers. He tried to take my hand so we could return to…

To where? My home will be empty.

"Let her have this,” I heard Nessa tell him.

"We’ll wait for you at our house, pumpkin,” said Ched.

I heard their footsteps quieten as they, along with many others, started walking back. But there were many of us who stayed at the edge of the burial site—those of us who did not have a place to return to. Some were the same age as me, some older, and some much, much older. Some of them were simply standing, looking down at the newly created forest. Others sat down, their feet dangling over the edge. A few of them were already at work, magically carving steps which would allow access to the forest. Seeing this, everyone who had mana joined in to help speed up the process.

Soon, we were all running toward the forest. Although I couldn’t remember where my parents had been placed, I had a strong feeling that took me there. I was drawn to their trees. I was drawn to them.

A towering cypress standing next to a thick willow tree with vibrant green leaves. Their trunks were almost touching each other, while the willow’s branches were full enough to give me some privacy by obscuring me from the views of others.

So I just sat down there. Empty. Empty, but not sad.

 

***

 

And so the hours passed, the whispers of people to their dead loved ones masked by the rustling of leaves, in the gentle northern winds.

"Your parents?” I heard a young voice say.

I turned to face the voice.

 

 

Name         : Adel Leonil

Race         : Human

Class        : -

Level        : -

 

 

It was the archpriest and archpriestess’s son. I nodded.

"I am sorry,” he said. “It must be hard.”

I did not have anything to say, nor did I feel the need to.

"Maybe I could be your friend one day,” he said and before I could react, he started running off toward the closest set of stairs leading back up out of the forest.

"Okay,” I whispered.

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