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Chapter 45 - The Funeral II

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the solemn gathering. The air was thick with the scent of incense and wood smoke, mingling with the quiet murmur of the crowd that had assembled to pay their last respects. The sprawling town square had been transformed into a place of mourning, where the bodies of the victims lay beneath linen sheets, waiting to be consigned to the flames.

The soldiers stood in formation, their armor gleaming under the fading light. Each man bore the weight of the tragedy on his shoulders, their faces somber as they prepared to give the fallen the respect they deserved. In the center of the square, a large pyre had been built, its structure towering and formidable, made of wood scavenged from the nearby forests and the ruins of the town. It was a monument to the lives lost, a final resting place for those who had perished in the recent disaster.

Anastasia stood at the front of the gathering, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed from the tears she had fought to contain since her arrival. Beside her, Selena stood with quiet strength, her presence a comforting pillar as Anastasia prepared to bid farewell to her grandfather. Though the day had been filled with grief and loss, there was a sense of dignity to the proceedings, a deep reverence for the lives that had been lost.

The army had come to pay their respects as well, a fitting tribute to the victims of the massacre. A line of soldiers stood at attention, their swords raised in a ceremonial salute. General Rubios, who had overseen the preparations, stood tall at the front, his face stern but respectful, a silent acknowledgment of the duty that had fallen upon him and his men. The victims may not have been soldiers, but they were still citizens of the empire, and their lives were to be honored with the same reverence as any who had died in service.

As the final preparations were made for the pyre to be lit, a hush fell over the crowd. Selena glanced at Anastasia, her heart aching for her sister-in-law. She could see the struggle in Anastasia's eyes—the pain of losing someone so dear to her, the weight of the moment pressing down on her fragile shoulders. Selena reached out, gently taking Anastasia's hand in hers, offering a quiet, steady comfort.

"You don't have to do this alone," Selena whispered, her voice soft but firm. "We're all here with you."

Anastasia squeezed her hand, her lips trembling as she fought to hold back her tears. "I know," she replied in a whisper, her voice breaking. "But it still hurts so much."

Selena nodded, understanding all too well the depth of that pain. "It's alright to grieve. Your grandfather was a great man. He deserves your tears, and so do you."

With those words, Anastasia's resolve crumbled. The tears she had been holding back for so long began to fall, her chest heaving with sobs as she finally allowed herself to mourn. Selena wrapped an arm around her, holding her close as she wept, shielding her from the eyes of the crowd. In that moment, the walls Anastasia had built around herself to hide her pain came crashing down, and all that was left was raw, unfiltered sorrow.

The soldiers began their ceremonial salute, their movements precise and measured. Their swords gleamed in the light of the setting sun as they brought them to their chests in honor of the fallen. The clinking of armor and the soft rustling of uniforms filled the air, adding to the solemnity of the moment.

Selena watched as the soldiers paid their respects, her own heart heavy with grief—not just for the victims of the massacre, but for the entire town. The lives lost were not just numbers; they were mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters. Each one had a story, and each one left behind loved ones who would never see them again. The thought weighed heavily on her mind as she continued to hold Anastasia, offering what little comfort she could.

The sound of a crackling torch signaled the beginning of the ritual. A soldier approached the pyre, the flames from the torch casting eerie shadows across his face. He bent down, carefully lighting the base of the structure, and within moments, the flames began to climb upward, devouring the dry wood and grass with a hungry ferocity. The heat from the fire grew quickly, spreading across the square as the pyre burned brighter, the flames roaring to life in a blaze of orange and gold.

Anastasia watched the flames with tear-filled eyes, her breath catching in her throat as she whispered a final goodbye to her grandfather. The fire reflected in her eyes, its light illuminating her grief-stricken face as she let the reality of the loss settle in. Selena stood beside her, her hand still firmly in Anastasia's, a silent reminder that she was not alone in this moment of sorrow.

As the pyre burned, a deep, respectful silence fell over the crowd. The soldiers stood at attention, their swords still raised in salute, and the townspeople bowed their heads in reverence. Even the wind seemed to still, as if nature itself was paying homage to the fallen.

The crackling of the flames filled the air, accompanied by the occasional sound of wood snapping and crumbling as the pyre continued to burn. The heat was intense, almost unbearable, but no one moved. They stayed, rooted to the spot, watching as the flames consumed the pyre, carrying the souls of the victims into the afterlife.

Anastasia took a deep breath, her sobs quieting as the fire burned brighter. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand, her chest still heaving with emotion, but there was a sense of closure beginning to settle over her. She knew her grandfather was gone, but in this moment, she felt his presence, as though he was watching over her from somewhere beyond.

"I'll miss you, grandpa" she whispered, her voice barely audible. 

Selena smiled softly, squeezing Anastasia's hand. "He'll always be with you. In your heart."

The flames continued to roar, but amidst the heat and light, there was a strange sense of peace. The victims had been given the respect they deserved, their bodies consigned to the flames in a final, dignified farewell. The soldiers lowered their swords in unison, their salute complete, and as the pyre burned, the crowd began to disperse, their hearts heavy but their spirits united in grief.

Anastasia lingered for a moment longer, her eyes fixed on the flames. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to Selena, her face wet with tears but her expression calm.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "For being here."

Selena nodded, offering a small smile. "Always."

Together, they walked away from the burning pyre, their footsteps heavy with loss, but their hearts a little lighter knowing that, even in the face of death, they were not alone.