Sir Dolorem wouldn't have wanted him to mourn endlessly and refuse to work on what truly matters. They worked and fought so hard for years to reach that point; now, it was time to work.
Sylvester woke up in the morning, a day after the funeral. He still lived in the Bright Mother complex and had no desire to move out, no matter his status. One of the reasons was that he wanted to be with Xavia as much as possible, and the other was that all the Bright Mothers were utmost loyal to him, just like the Inquisitors. Even if weak, they'd rather jump in front of an arrow to save him than allow him to get injured.
He donned his regular robes as usual, just slightly different in embroidery to separate him from the rest. His mitre was the only thing that could convey that he was the Pope. He gazed at the container of Sir Dolorem's ashes and bid farewell. "See you later, old man."
