It was mid-afternoon. The fires of battle had been quelled, and the corpses had been carried away to be buried. Now, a solemn silence pervaded the air as people gathered around the large funeral pyre. In the distance stood Renzor, his clothing covered in dust and dried blood. The sun cast long shadows across the field, and a cold breeze blew gently, the silence broken only by the soft cries of the bereaved as they said their goodbyes.
As the people finished their final farewells, Nabil left the others and floated beside Renzor, gazing at him. "How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice quiet.
"I'm fine," Renzor replied, looking straight ahead. "Just thinking."
"You should get some rest," Nabil said, studying his friend. "You look tired."
"I'll be okay," Renzor murmured, though his shoulders were slumped and his eyes unfocused. "I've been thinking a lot lately."
"About what?" Nabil prompted gently.
