The morning sun had yet to crest the horizon when the streets of Sparta began to stir with activity. One by one, the citizens emerged from their homes, donning solemn black attire as a hush fell over the city. Today was the day they would pay tribute to the brave warriors who had made the ultimate sacrifice in defense of their beloved homeland.
Silver Morningstar stood beside his father Silas on the balcony of the royal palace. His eyes were filled with awe as he looked at the massive crowd beneath them. It was a strange feeling watching the commoners and nobles of Sparta gather together beneath them.
It was like they were gods watching over their people
Despite the fact that this was a solemn and sad occasion, Silver could not help but be awed by this fact and have such a thought. This was the first time he was witnessing such a grand gathering.
'But this is not even all of the citizens.' Silver thought with slightly widened eyes.
It was obvious that the central square outside the royal palace would not be able to hold all the citizens of Sparta. Every town and city of Sparta had holographic screens that showed what was going on in the central square of the royal palace.
How this worked? Silver did not know nor did he really care.
What was his business?
'Also, this is just a burial ceremony. I heard that the legacy ceremony would be much grander.'
Silver's gaze shifted, and he saw row upon row of funeral pyres, each one constructed of the finest woods and adorned with weapons, armor, and personal belongings of the fallen. The pyres seemed to stretch on endlessly, an indication of the staggering losses suffered in battle.
The chill morning air carried the scent of burning braziers, their flickering flames giving a sort of warmth to the sober and tense atmosphere.
The citizens of Sparta had already begun to gather, forming a living sea that rippled with muted conversation and muffled weeping. Silver could spot familiar faces among the crowd - the baker whose daily breads he would steal, the grocer whose stalls he would overturn in playful mischief. But their usual jovial expressions were replaced with ones of profound sorrow.
The minutes went by and more and more citizens continued pouring into the central square. The sound of footsteps echoed in the ears of Silver and all the present Morningstars.
Silver looked back, and he saw his grandfather appear. Clad in a robe made of a mixture of golden, crimson, and black colors, his grandfather looked more grand than he usually did.
And he always looked grand.
Silver, Silas, Eleanor, and every other Morningstar present bowed in the presence of King Abel. He nodded, and then he stepped forward with a solemn expression. A silence descended over the masses.
"Brave sons and daughters of Sparta," He did not shout, but his voice was clearly amplified and heard by everybody in the central square and even the entire capital of Sparta.
"We are gathered here on this somber dawn to honor the ultimate sacrifice paid by our brothers and sisters in arms. They who stood as an unbreakable bulwark against the encroaching darkness that threatened our way of life."
Silver watched as his grandfather's gaze swept over the assembled pyres, and to Silver's surprise, an expression of sadness appeared on his grandfather's face. "We shall forevermore speak their names in reverence - for they have etched their deeds into the annals of Spartan glory through their valor and devotion."
"Alceus Demaratos."
"Brison Aristeides."
"Cleon Lysandros."
"Dorus Megakles."
"Eryx Timaios."
"Hektor Aristarchos."
"Galen Xenophon."
One by one, the names of the fallen echoed across the silent square as the king of Sparta recited them in a voice thick with emotion. With each utterance, Silver could feel the sorrow amongst the crowd grow
He was not an exception to this emotion because he knew some of the names called. He had grown up admiring some, and there were some who had laughed and told him tales of their conquest. All of these had played a part in coloring his childhood.
As the final name was spoken, his grandfather raised his arms skyward, his voice swelling with conviction. "Let these fires be the eternal flame that guides their spirits to the hallowed halls of our ancestors. And let their deeds burn as a blazing reminder to all that the fire of Spartan resolve can never be extinguished!"
With those words, the first torch was cast upon the nearest pyre, its flames greedily licking at the wood and sending plumes of smoke billowing into the rose-tinged sky. One by one, the pyres were set ablaze, their fires quickly coalescing into a roaring inferno that seemed to breathe life into the dawning sun.
Silver watched in solemn transfixion as the flames danced, their light reflecting in the tears that streaked the faces of the gathered mourners. As he watched the fire burn the remains of the fallen warriors, he discovered something shocking.
He could feel the heat from the flames on his skin even from where he stood. He looked at his right arm, and he saw that he was sweating. His eyes widened.
"The flames are not normal flames."
His father's voice resounded in his ears and he looked at him.
"To burn the bodies of the warriors whose bodies were much stronger and tenacious than the body of a mortal human, we had to use a special fire."
His father explained simply, and realization dawned on Silver.
He looked at the fire once more and tried to notice anything that would show that it was not a normal fire, but he saw nothing.
"Don't bother. You have not reached the stage where you can notice anything about the elements."
His father said once again, and Silver immediately gave up. If his father said so, then there was no point in wasting his time trying.
Silver thought as he kept on looking at the flames in a trance.
Silas glanced at him.
As the pyre burned and smoke billowed into the brightening sky, Silver made a silent oath to himself while watching the flames. One day, he too would etch his name into the annals of Spartan legacy - either through a warrior's death or deeds that would live on through the ages.