Candle [https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/pw/AP1GczNB2GMY3Inuhv30tSLcOeeKQnoRA0jN3NMD9regbiVoTwvL0tv1OQxdkwdQJ73P6dBH4q3PSmveyPDuUTZ-PvQCQyeQzJHDY68n0PgtYBwCxzLtDUZMh0m8xfwLzPXw3Ujq7i_uRdD1HMTTe2okIrEm=w613-h919-s-no-gm?authuser=0]
Phoenix was a bundle of nerves the following morning as she donned the white dress and stared at her mess of red curls in the mirror. She debated on using her Prism Brush to help style it and get it under control. Only briefly did she contemplate using it to change it completely and try to hide her identity, but she remembered that the whole point of the event was to honor those who had fallen in the battle against the Soul Reapers, and she quickly dismissed the idea.
Patricia surprised her by showing up unexpectedly to help her prepare, also wanting to run down the expectations of the day. She was grateful that she wouldn’t be required to speak, but her aunt strongly recommended that she should, “Not only will it help reassure the people there about your capability to lead–”
“I’m not even convinced about that,” Phoenix interjected as she tried to sit still while the runeforged woman helped tie back her hair in tight spirals before pinning them in place.
Patricia ignored her comment as she continued speaking, “But I think Paul would appreciate you speaking in his place. I know both of you aren’t really talkative people.”
“Especially publicly,” the Wayfarer emphasized.
“Well, I won’t push you further, but I hope you can work up the courage to say at least a few words and encourage Paladin Fairweather to do the same.”
Phoenix nodded silently, trying to think of something she would feel comfortable saying in public. She had zero confidence in her public speaking skills and just the idea of purposefully drawing an entire crowd of very important eyes towards her was terrifying. If she made a fool of herself, wouldn’t it just dishonor Paul and the entire House?
“Why can’t Dazien do it instead?” she said, totally not whining, “He’s way more comfortable with things like this. Plus, as my older brother–”
“We’ve talked about this already when both Dazien and I spoke with you about him signing those papers. You’re still the heir and Regent. Besides, until Dazien has his Noble Reveal, it would be a breach of etiquette for him to speak publicly as a Wayland.”
“I think you owe me five Crystal Bits, Aunt Patricia,” Dazien said from the open doorway he was currently leaning in, hands tucked in his pockets and a grin across his face, “I told you she’d beg to have me speak instead.”
“I wasn’t begging,” Phoenix retorted, straightening to let Pati finish her hair, “I was just pointing out a reasonable solution to the obvious problem.”
The gemite shrugged as he walked over to sit against the arm of the couch she and Pati were currently occupying. He was already dressed in a clean white tunic and pants with golden stitching around the edges and the sigil of House Wayland of a thorned flower wrapped around the blade of a sword embroidered over the left side of his chest, just like her dress had.
She thought it suited him and found herself wondering what the others were wearing, but his words interrupted her tangent thought, “You did fine speaking to those VIPs when Kara was trying to get you murdered for breaking the Rule of Caste; how is this worse than that?”
“First, that was terrible, and I never want to go through that again,” she said with a shiver at the memory of those glaring Sapphire Magi and Emerald Adventurers, “Second, this isn’t just a dozen Casters… this is going to be thousands of people gathered to mourn their loved ones. It’s so much worse.”
Dazien gave her a soft yet sad smile, “You’ve been the beacon plenty of times before, Phoenix. All those people need the light and hope you represent. You’re right that it’s worse, and these people are mourning… devastated by loss of family that we were only barely blessed to avoid ourselves… and everyone lost a friend, we didn’t escape that fate.”
Phoenix shrank slightly, murmuring to her new brother, “I don’t want to mess up… they don’t deserve to see me stumbling up there on stage.”
“You won’t,” Dazien said reassuringly, then tapped his temple, “I’ll be right there with you. If you think you’re going to fall, I’ll catch you. You don’t have to be brave alone.”
She felt her body relax at that and her breath came a bit easier, “Thanks, Daze. That does make me feel better.”
As Patricia finished with her hair, the woman gestured toward Dazien and said, “You next. If you’re going to keep it that long, you’re going to make it look more presentable than that.”
The gemite reached up to snag the tail of the queue he had tied it back in as he said with a frown, “I’ve seen plenty of young scions wear it like this.”
“Yes, when out and about doing other duties or romping around. This is a public memorial, though. An event where the nobility will be expected to impress, putting their best faces on to show both aptitude and respect to those we’re paying honor to. Now sit your butt down and hand me that jar on the table.”
Dazien chuckled as he shook his head but obligingly sat and let the older runeforged style his hair better. Phoenix sat in the nearby armchair and watched as Pati asked, “Do you prefer it this length, or have you just been too busy to get it cut?”
“Too busy,” the gemite said with a sigh, “I don’t dislike it necessarily but this is the longest I’ve let it go since I was little more than a toddler. Normally, I keep it just to my nape.”
He paused for a moment before quietly admitting, “It was safer for me to keep it shorter as a child… too many people were either put off by it or enticed by it. It’s the most obvious indicator that I’m a gemite.”
Patricia hummed thoughtfully as she finished brushing and began braiding against his scalp, “Yes, obviously, it’s one of your more prominent traits. I read that it’s common for gemites to let it grow out because of this if memory serves me correctly. Are you wanting to embrace that heritage or are you tied more to Tulimeir and its styles?”
“Don’t you think I should conform to the latter?” he asked curiously, “As a Wayland–”
“Dazien, we have a human lord whose soul decided that he should match the red curls of his adopted Wayfarer daughter… don’t concern yourself with the House on this matter, though I appreciate the thought.”
He glanced towards Phoenix for a moment then back towards the door to her room as though pondering the hall and she decided to ask, “Does Uriel prefer it long?”
Dazien chuckled and gave a half-shrug, trying not to interfere with Pati’s rapidly moving hands as he said, “He’ll play with it when we’re alone, but he hasn’t voiced an opinion one way or another. What do you think? It’s a lot of work to upkeep, and I’m worried about it getting caught while fighting.”
She shrugged, “I love mine long. I just braid it for fights, and it’s been okay. The twins wear those magic hair clips that keep it from getting tangled or in their faces that I’ve thought about picking up. Maybe you could get something like that.”
The Defender hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe. I think I’ll let it stay long for a bit longer and try out different things.”
Phoenix perked up at an idea and conjured her Prism Brush from her collection, “I know, I’ll change my little green curl to match you better. It’ll be like a bridge between you, me, and Paul that way!”
Dazien blinked at her in surprise before grinning broadly, “You would do that for me?”
“Sure, it’ll look better when I’m standing next to you, right? Maybe make it more obvious that we’re siblings despite not being blood-related?” she pointed out, carefully grabbing the section of green hair starting at her temple she had added a while ago when first getting the magic tool and having Paul show her how to use it.
“It won’t be as shiny as his,” Pati pointed out, “But it will be a nice gesture. I believe if you feed those some extra Mana Bits you can even affect Dazien’s hair as well.”
“What?” the gemite replied in obvious surprise, “I didn’t think something like that would work because of the more magical properties of my hair. I have to use enchanted scissors just to cut it.”
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“Well, we won’t try it now, but I’m fairly certain you can exchange Sapphire Mana Bits since you’re Sapphire Caste, and it will give it the boost it needs to implement the desired changes,” Patricia said.
The runeforged mother finished surprisingly quickly, using a small jar of styling gel to help, and managed to get the silky purple strands pulled into tight rows of braids in a wave pattern along his scalp that swept back and was definitely more in the style many of the runeforged had.
“That will likely last a couple of weeks unless you get into some rough monster fights,” Patricia informed him, “If you like it, I can show you how to do it yourself or maybe have Phoenix learn to help. Just let me know.”
“I appreciate that,” Dazien replied, standing and straightening his outfit before holding out a hand towards Phoenix and asking, “Ready to go honor our fallen friends?”
She swallowed nervously but took his hand, “As ready as I’ll ever be, I think.”
As they followed Patricia out of the room, they soon joined the rest of House Wayland’s members who would be in attendance today. Even Camrin was dressed in white but seemed to be nervously arguing with a runeforged man she hadn’t met yet, but the family resemblance to Pati was obvious with those blue markings and eyes.
“Noble Pavel, I don’t think–”
“I’ve told you that’s ‘Father’ now, Camrin,” the older man said sternly, “If you’re going to have the chutzpah to hand over everything you’ve ever known, then you’re going to show the world that you’re committed to that choice.”
The younger boy gave a heavy sigh as he stared up at the ceiling as though praying for strength before conceding, “Father, I don’t think anyone that is going to be there today is going to be pleased with seeing a Ruwena–”
“There are no more Ruwenas, my boy,” the runeforged interrupted once more, and Phoenix had to hold back a laugh as he added, “Their crazy, desperate lord traded them all away because he realized how irredeemable they were, remember?”
“Nobody is going to be happy to see me there!” the young teen said in a rush.
“I will be, and that should be enough for you. Now suck it up and straighten that belt. No son of mine is going to be looking sloppy while everyone stares at him.”
“At least you won’t be the only one people stare at,” Dazien whispered in her ear with a chuckle, and she rolled her eyes at him.
“That’s not helping,” but she did feel slightly relieved by the exchange and knowing someone shared in her stage fright as Camrin straightened the white belt that held a pouch on one side and a small gilded dagger on the other.
The entire family eventually made their way via sivatherium-driven carriages to the southwestern Temple District, where the roads against the northern wall of that section were packed with people. The carriages were a rarely used luxury only really utilized for special events where many of the nobility would be moving together across the city.
The wall itself had become a monument, listing the names of those who had died during the battle along its base and not going higher than seven feet so most people could touch the rune engraved beside each name. There were hundreds.
Candles were everywhere, including clasped in hands and floating in the air, which Phoenix found odd since most people seemed to prefer the magic glowstones that provided endless clean illumination, but the Wayfarer got the feeling that it was the flames that were symbolic of the moment.
At the start of the list, closer to the city center, was a stage that had been raised to look over the crowd and the Duke began speaking right at noon as the memorial began. The noble Houses and major organization representatives standing nearby took their own turns to speak.
Kara surprised Phoenix by going second, without her needing to prompt the Caster, and the normally playful and often infuriating woman further impressed her by giving a very touching speech about how she wished that she could have arrived sooner and would forever remember those she hadn’t been able to stand for. Not mentioning her connection to Phoenix a single time, only mourning along with everyone else.
As a lull in the line of speakers came, she noticed Patricia’s pointed look. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she carefully stood and made her way to the stage. Hoping for inspiration along the way, she began speaking with what she had come up with so far, “For those of you who might not know me, I’m Regent Phoenix Wayland and an Adventurer of Tulim. I know there are a lot of rumors going around about me –many I’m sure being greatly exaggerated– but that’s not why I’m here today.”
Phoenix raised her head again, remembering Uriel’s words to always keep her head up when others were watching her. She hadn’t seen her friends in the crowd yet and she wished that they were nearby as she continued speaking, “I’m here today because of the people we are honoring. Because they fought for all of us. Because they gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect others from having to. Their courage, dedication, and heroism saved many other lives and will never be forgotten.”
She paused when she made the mistake of registering the thousands of faces staring at her, feeling her heart hammer in her chest, and mentally whispered, “Daze, I’m not sure how to end it.”
“You’re doing great. Just repeat after me now,” his reassuring voice said in her mind, and she spoke the next words he whispered aloud.
“In memory of all of those lost and their loved ones who remain –everyone here who gave them the strength to fight– we give thanks to them, for they are the Heroes of Tulim.”
Cheers went up as she gave a deep bow towards the wall of engraved names and quickly returned to her seat near Patricia and the rest of her new relatives. She took shelter in the hug that Dazien offered her, and he said in her ear, “That was wonderful, Princess.”
As the speeches ended and the crowd near the stage began to disperse, Patricia gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder before leaving their area to mingle with the other nobles nearby.
Patric leaned towards her and said quietly, “That was well done, Phoenix. Mother said you weren’t comfortable with speaking but you did well with holding your voice and aura steady. I’m sure Uncle Paul would have been proud.”
Phoenix blinked at him before bowing her head and replying softly, “Thanks, Patric. That actually means a lot to me. Paul worked hard to help train my aura control.”
“It paid off,” he said with a sincere smile.
She simply nodded in return, uncertain how to continue the conversation but the man was soon distracted by another visitor which reminded Phoenix that other people might try to talk with her as well. The thought made her even more anxious as she felt that she had reached the limits of her social tolerance.
An arm around her shoulder steadied her as Dazien asked, “Ready to go find the others and check out the wall? I think everyone wants to go find our lost friends.”
----------------------------------------
Rayna nervously held Mohala’s hand as they made their way through the crowd, the dryad determined to find the names of her friends. Saiya and Uriel were trailing behind them but kept in sight. Their bracelets were a reassurance of not getting separated in the throng of people.
As the speeches had ended, the pyres were lit. Many were along the top of the walls between the defensive canons but almost all of the temples had their own set up in front of their doors to send off those that had followed their deities.
While many of the fighters that had joined in the battle were Adventurers or Ducal Guards, plenty had been priests or crafters, mercenaries or hunters, Bit farm security, or other private guards for shops or restaurants. Normal, everyday people who happened to be blessed with Aspects and answered the call to protect their city.
Mohala stopped at a bunch of names that Rayna didn’t recognize. She had only been in the city for around eight months now, since the blood moon began, and had stayed pretty insulated from others, keeping busy with her party and meeting more shopkeepers than other Adventurers. Her new girlfriend, however, had lived here for years.
Dazien and Phoenix eventually caught up to them, and the gemite joined Mohala in stopping at names of people who were complete strangers to the voxen. As the pair were swapping some stories about a shared acquaintance, Rayna asked Uriel curiously, “Why don’t you join them? You know these people too, right?”
Uriel gave a slight shrug, “Barely, but I don’t have anything to say that Daze can’t voice better. None of them sought me out without him by my side.”
The bard fell silent once again and followed the more social pair lost in their memories as they traversed the wall of names. When they reached the first one she recognized, she felt her chest tighten, and her twin stiffened beside her, a hand tightening around hers.
“Here’s Simmon’s…” Mohala said for the group to hear, then glanced towards everyone before asking, “Can everyone see okay?”
They all adjusted slightly to gather around the name, and the dryad eventually pressed the rune next to the name once everyone settled. A small illusion of Simmon Teras appeared before them, he looked younger than she remembered and was smiling while feeding his tiny Wellspring Wyrmling Familiar a cookie and said towards them, “I think I’ll call him Walter V. Teras or Wally for short.”
The illusion shimmered and changed to show him a little older and kicking a ball around a triangular field. Mohala laughed as she explained, “He loved polyball, but he was terrible at playing. Polissa always destroyed him at it.”
Another shimmer, and the sixteen-year-old version that Rayna remembered, was practically hopping up and down as he held up a crystalline card and excitedly said, “Dad, Papa! I did it! Look, I’m an Adventurer now! The youngest in a half-century! I told you I could do it!”
The illusion shifted one last time to Simmon sitting in a chair and reading a book. He looked up toward them and asked, “What are you doing, Po?”
“We’re going to the front tomorrow, I wanted to record your thoughts before your first big fight,” Polissa’s voice said from somewhere beyond the illusion’s boundary.
“Second. We fought for Tulisuda, remember?”
“Sure but this is a bit different; bigger. What do you want your future kids to know when you show them this years from now?”
The illusion rolled his ember eyes but seemed to think for a moment before saying, “That no matter how scary it gets, or how dangerous it may seem, it’s worth doing what you can to protect your family, friends, and everyone else… there’s a good chance someone in this city is part of my future after all. How else will I have these kids I’m talking to?” he asked with a laugh, then said softly, “I’m fighting for that future family, too.”
As the illusory recording ended, Rayna noticed none of her friends’ eyes were dry, Saiya outright sobbing with her hands trying to keep her mouth silent to not interrupt Simmon’s words.
The bard wasn’t sure what to say, so she did the only thing she thought she could manage: she sang.
Slow and soft, not at all the furious tempo of her battle dance, but one that made a person pause in the moment to just listen. A song of sorrow and loss. Of what could have been and what would never be. A song not just for her friend but every soul that had passed through the Veil of Death and whose remains were being returned to the earth as ash.
A song of remembrance for the heroes that would forever live in memory.