Chapter 7: A Fire Yet Burns
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Outside the swamp, a battered band limped back to holy halls,
Bearing the fallen squire within those torchlit, hallowed walls.
Amelia wept, for he was so young, and his sacrifice was great,
She pleaded with the Phoenix flame to shift her friend’s grim fate.
The ghost hovered by with mournful eyes, recalling watery grave,
And how through Aeron’s kindness of heart, perhaps he might be saved.
A council of priestesses soon formed the Rite of Light,
A circle drawn with runes of gold to resurrect from night.
Incense rose in swirling plumes, each voice intoned in prayer,
While time stood still for watchers hushed in candle-flickered air.
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At first no spark disturbed the gloom, nor breath in Aeron’s frame,
Despair crept in. But as Amelia sang a hymn a gentle warmth soon came.
From lifeless form, a golden glow pulsed like a living heart,
A single fluttered breath emerged, soft, but a brand-new start.
He gasped awake, eyes wide with shock, restored by Phoenix grace,
A wave of awe broke ‘cross the crowd that watched his wondrous face.
Amelia broke into sobs of joy, Theodric bowed in awe,
Eliwen touched a trembling hand, overwhelmed by what she saw.
And with that act, the ghost who’d roamed, undone by worldly tears,
Found absolution in the act that quashed all of his heavy-hearted fears.
His tether softened, gloom replaced with hope’s triumphant chord,
Released from binding curses harsh, redeemed by this reward.
“I thank you, squire, for blazing bright,” the spirit whispered light,
“For you have shown me the kind of heart outshine eternal night.”
Aeron turned his head towards his friend, though he found his neck quite stiff,
“Go in peace, my good and honorable uncle, though sorely you’ll be missed.”
Thus unbound from the haunting coast and solemn duty, the ghost could rest in peace,
His mission done, he vanished softly with a tender smile, a final, sweet release.