The twilight bathed Basilica in a golden hue as Eugene's funeral came to an end. The setting sun tinted the horizon with a warm glow, but the chilly night wind made the torches flicker, bringing a sense of desolation. The priest's last words still reverberated in the minds of those present, but the silence that settled was heavy and oppressive.
Eugene, despite his humble origins, had become a revered figure in the capital. His dedication to the common people and his tireless work had earned him the love and respect of the citizens. Grandaenor, who in the past had harbored disdain for Eugene, now felt the weight of the loss. His relationship with Eugene had been marked by distrust and resentment, especially after the betrayal that led Eugene to distance himself from the Deucalion. However, Lord Grandaenor could not ignore the respect he had developed for Eugene upon learning of his dreams and aspirations, a respect now mingled with mourning for the man's death.
