By the time the group had returned to the village, the wind had begun to pick up and ominous clouds had gathered above them. The cheers upon their return were tempered by loss. The others wasted no time preparing the funeral. Left behind were two grieving widows, one childless and one with three devastated children. The village elder stepped up and recounted their bravery in battle. The bodies were then washed with special oils and put inside metal caskets and the lids closed. On the elder’s command, the fires underneath was lit. Immediately a sweet scent emanated from the venting holes in the caskets. Soon the scent dissipated, and the caskets were re-opened. All that remained inside were the two crystals of the men.

“Firanta, will you as a childless widow break your connection to your late husband, and allow his spirit to move on as you will? Or to keep him and wish that he keeps vigil over you?”

The woman shook her head. “I release my husband willingly so that we both can seek our fortunes elsewhere, even as I thank him for the time we shared.” The elder gave her the crystal, and using an adorned hammer, hit the crystal whom shattered into tiny fragments that were carried away by the strong wind.

“And you Hild, what will you decide? Widow with three issues?” The elder then asked the next woman.

“I wish he continue to watch over our children, and bide his time here until the day that I too leave, so that we may continue on together.”

Corwil, Mariel, Saya and Tizare stood a little to the side, watching the proceedings.

“Hey, so why don’t you just stick the bodies in the ground?” Tizare whispered to Corwil whose expression soured slightly.

“This is our tradition, and I ask you to respect it. It is customary to release your wife or husband if you are without children. If you have children, we view the bond unbreakable for their sake. When both parents are dead, the children will then release them both so they may go on together.”

“Strange tradition.” Tizare mumbled.

“It is our way; I am sure yours are different.”

Over by the caskets, work had just finished on embedding the late husband’s crystal into a prepared necklace which the widow accepted and hung around her neck.

“Then, we must conclude the last business… With little knowledge on hand, I turn to our newfound friends for directions on how to bury or commemorate their fallen kin.” The Elder pointed to Saya and Tizare, whom awkwardly stepped forward.

“Ah, in our lands it is common to both bury or burn bodies… But here, burn the corpses. It is our way that bodies shall only be buried on ground protected by our goddess Acrypha, to prevent their return by forbidden forces.” Tizare explained.

“Very well… It will be done.”

The gathering began to scatter. Corwil could leave them to reunite with his wife and daughter, while Mariel with some reluctance followed a pair of villagers to the nearby site outside the village where the dead humans were lined up. Though her stomach threatened to do a backflip within her, she offered the same prayer to the deceased, before the villagers lit the corpses on fire.

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On her way, back, she saw Tizare standing alone, observing the city in the distance.

“Hi…” She began, but got no further as he turned around and held up his hand.

“Before you go on, did you pray for the spirit of the dead?” He asked her. She nodded.

“Good. It’s important for you to feel some closure as well… Was this your first time seeing death and war?”

She nodded once more.

“It’ll be difficult, that’s for sure, but if you feel like talking about it, just let me know.”

“Sorry Mariel… But Tizare doesn’t know listening.” Saya appeared as if out of nowhere, carrying a small bundle in her hands.

“Hey! I listen, quite a bit! For wild animals and such.”

“Nothing to do with other people.” Saya curtly dismissed his defence before refocusing on Mariel.

“Let’s play together, come.”

Mariel was taken aback by her sudden offer, but wanting some relief, she agreed.

The two left Tizare alone and headed back into the village. Outside a small shop, they encountered a group of children playing soldiers. When they approached, the children froze and steeled themselves for a scolding.

“Hi.” Saya greeted the children.

“Hi… You are that human foreigner lady?”

She nodded. “Do you know how to fly a kite?”

“The children exchanged looks, before one of them took a step forward and puffed up her chest. “I do!”

“Good, let’s go make one then.”

“Really? But we have nothing to make it from.”

“I do, let’s go.”

The small group now swelled to a total of six, all headed a little way up the mountain path to an outcrop overlooking the village. A fair but somewhat cold wind ruffled their hair. Saya opened her bundle to reveal a strange box. Inside was an assortment of ink bottles, several rolls of paper and some strong rope. While Saya and Mariel tied the kite together, the children decorated the paper with a mix of flowers, knights fighting dragons and some fish before attaching it to the wooden frame.

“Okay, take turns.” Saya handed over the end of the rope, and to loud jubilations, the kite soared into the sky.

“But Saya, why are we doing this?” Mariel asked.

“You felt down, this is a good memory of a bad day.”

“Hey! It’s my turn now!” One of the children began a tussle for the end of the rope.

“No fighting… If you can cooperate, you’ll be much better friends.”

Mariel looked on and finally understood. It would be a wonderful memory. Though the whole day had been tough, she drew some genuine happiness from the innocent frolicking. Her mind was focused elsewhere, and she enjoyed the relief.

Below in the village the elder had called Tizare to him and the two were sitting outside the elder’s house, watching the fun above.

“We discussed this on the way back, and I’m still of the opinion we need help here.”

Tizare nodded. “You got a strong position, but who knows what’s lurking in that forest right now.”

“I cannot begin to tell you how grateful I am that you will do this for a people you have never met before.” The elder passed him a pair of letters and a small metal pin as he finished his sentence.

“These are?” Tizare studied the objects closely.

“The letters will get you into the city. Go to the guard commander and ask for reinforcements to be sent here… The pin is a personal gift from me.”

“It carries special meaning I presume?”

The elder nodded. The pin was an old award given to couriers undertaking particularly hazardous missions during the last human-demon war. He went on to explain to Tizare that the village itself was formed by former soldiers under his command. After the war’s end his unit had been decommissioned, and sent home. To their horror their home city had been razed and sacked, so they brought the survivors with them and founded the village in the defensible position in the mountain.

“You will leave after midnight as planned? I have ordered fresh horses and opened up our old army stores to outfit you.”

“Yes. A storm is approaching... It will hit just before midnight… Heavy rain and strong winds will keep those without reason sheltering inside.” Tizare pointed to the shifting clouds in the sky.

“I see… I will not keep you any longer, you should rest and prepare… I will send someone up there to fetch your companion and Mariel.”

“No… Let them be. They both need to unwind.”