It was a solemn gathering on the outskirts of the village. A pyre had been erected there, made of pine and cedar and sandalwood. The devotees brought Katar’s body from the shrine and laid him on top of it. His body had been washed and dressed in leather armor.

The villagers watched silently as Keeper Hovo approached the pyre. He laid a hand on the wood pile, taking a moment to look at Katar’s face. Then he turned to address everyone:

“Today our brother, Katar Skala Ignas, has returned to the Earth Mother’s embrace. We gather here to celebrate his life and his deeds, for though the time he spent among us was brief, the manner in which he fulfilled the Earth Mother’s charge was great. May his life be an example to all, and may his memory persevere to the ends of time. May it be.”

“May it be,” the villagers echoed in chorus.

“May it be,” Xan said awkwardly. He was standing to one side of the pyre with Dee and Rowan. Rowan’s family was gathered behind them, a small group of just under a dozen people. Xan had noticed when the villagers started gathering that although Rowan and his family were allowed to join in, they remained visibly separated from the Ignas Verdans.

Taika stood at the head of the pyre. She had traded her leather clothes for a ceremonial robe of pale blue. The thick ringlets of her hair framed her tear-stained face. She stared at the pyre and her father’s body in sorrowful silence.

Keeper Hovo moved around to the head of the pyre. Then he took a torch from one of the guards. Just as he was about to cast it onto the wood, Rowan quickly stepped forward.

“Hold, Keeper Hovo!” he said. Keeper Hovo straightened up, glaring at Rowan furiously. But Rowan continued: “Is it not the tradition of the line of Ignas that the next of kin should light the pyre?”

Keeper Hovo seethed. “It is. But brother Katar is descended from a branch family that has no members here in the village.”

“An’ what about his daughter?” Rowan argued.

“She is not of the line of Ignas,” Keeper Hovo retorted.

“So what? She is still his next of kin. In fact, she’s probably the only family he had!” Rowan said hotly.

“Cousin Rowan!” Keeper Hovo said, raising his voice. “Must you insist on meddling in all of our people’s affairs? First you insist on allowing outsiders to approach the Earth Mother’s shrine, and now you interrupt the funeral ceremony. I will not stand for it!”

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Now Rowan was angry. He strode up to Keeper Hovo, who suddenly seemed to cower at his presence.

“I am Rowan Ward of the line of Rivule,” Rowan said in a voice that was ominously calm, “I will not let ye, nor anyone else, get in the way of upholdin’ the Earth Mother’s charge to our line. And I will not allow ye to deny a child the closure she so desperately needs.”

With that, he took the torch from Keeper Hovo’s hand. He brought it over to Taika. Then he gently reached a hand under her chin and tilted her face up.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, offering her the torch.

Taika looked between the torch and Rowan. Then she reached into the folds of her robe and pulled out her Ember Sang crystal. Rowan nodded his understanding before he stepped aside.

Taika stared at pyre for a long moment. Then she stepped forward to the base of it. She held the Ember Sang aloft.

“From stone we were born, and to stone we return. May the Earth Mother grant rest to the dead, and peace to the living. May it be,” she said reverently.

“May it be,” echoed the chorus of the villagers.

The Ember Sang in Taika’s hand glowed brightly. In an instant, the surrounding torches flared. Tongues of flame snaked through the air and onto the pyre. The wood caught swiftly, and soon all was being consumed by the fire.

The villagers watched in silent reverence for a long time. Then, in pairs and small groups, they began to break off and return to their homes. Soon the only Ignas Verdans left around the burning pyre were the shrine devotees.

Rowan’s family stayed behind for a while. Then a woman, whom Xan assumed to be Rowan’s wife, came forward and gently touched Rowan on the shoulder. They exchanged a few quiet words. Then she turned and started shepherding the rest of the family towards three large, brightly colored wagons stationed on the far side of the village. Xan wondered to himself how he hadn’t noticed the wagons before.

There was another long moment of silence. Xan, Dee, and Rowan watched together from their spot next to the pyre. Taika just stood at the head of the pyre, silent and unmoving. Then Dee reached up to tap Rowan on the hand.

“What will they do with the ashes?” she asked.

“They’ll be cast into the river,” Rowan explained. “The river flows down into the sea, an’ there the ashes will mix with the sand an’ eventually get turned back into rock. From stone, to stone again. At least, that’s what the line of Ignas believes.”

“I see…” Dee said quietly.

An hour passed. The pyre continued to burn until all that was left were smoldering logs. The devotees would continue to stand watch until the ashes grew cold, as was their duty. Xan stayed because Taika stayed.

She eventually sat down on the ground, her knees curled up to her chest. Xan, Dee, and Rowan eventually followed suit. It didn’t seem appropriate to talk, so none of them said anything, really. While they waited, Xan stole awkward glances at Taika. Once again, he felt like he should say something to her, but what would he even say? After about two hours had passed, he decided to try anyway.

He made his way over to Taika and sat down next to her. She didn’t even seem to acknowledge him. He reached out a hand to pat her shoulder, then stopped himself. Instead, he leaned back with a sigh. He stared up at the passing clouds for a long time. Then, he finally mustered the courage to say the only thing he could think to say:

“… I’m sorry, Taika.”

For a moment Taika didn’t respond. Then she suddenly turned and swung at him.