~Runick
Written by me the eleventh night of the sixth month in the nine hundred and twentieth year of Grand Overseer Re’Fonya, may she rule in peace and in power.
He had scrawled a last note across the bottom of the sheet.
Stefano, if there be consciousness beyond the pyre, I shall remember you fondly.
Stefano stared at the signature date. Re’Fonya was the kindred to which all princes gave homage. All dates were in respect to her reign, as they had been for Overseer Re’Shen before her. He had arrived at Arvis at the birth of the twelfth eve. This was last evening. I missed seeing my friend by a small handful of hours because I worried over a sire that does not wish to be found. A mistake I intend never to repeat. He reverently refolded the missive and set it to the side, then burrowed into the protection of the coverlets and wept himself to sleep.
Early the next evening he kept his promise to Zarchos and brushed the stallion. He spoke to him throughout the exercise, calming the animal that still disliked being touched. After he finished he sought out elder Tre`ach. They sat near the camp’s center fire while Stefano smoked his pipe, blowing smoke rings into the updraft from the fire and watching them twist, deform, and reform before disappearing in the heat. As others rose they went about their normal activities. There was a group of six that were just outside the camp, building what appeared to be a long fire pit. Stefano’s curiosity grew as the firebase took shape.
“What happens there, my friend?” Stefano pointed off in the distance. “It almost looks like a roasting pit. Yet it is high for such, and no trench or pit was dug first.”
Tre`ach smiled. “It is a 'rug funerar', my Prince, Runick’s funeral pyre. We held back the sending of Friend Runick as we knew you were coming. We would not continue such without our Prince and Runick’s friend present.”
Stefano wiped at misty eyes. “I thank you, Tre`ach. It is an honor that cannot be repaid.”
“It was Runick’s wish, my Lord Prince. We simply honor his request.” He paused to watch the six workers for a moment, then turned back to Stefano. “I would imagine he did not speak of this in his missive, but he did have one more request.”
“He made no mention of anything. What is this request?”
“He wanted his Prince to speak at the pyre.”
Stefano paused only a moment. “I shall be honored.”
“Thank you, Lord Prince. Now, I believe the true purpose of this visit was to discuss Jence.”
“It was, and is. I need know how things with him lie. Is there still peace around him?”
“There is, my Prince. He keeps mostly to himself, often just outside his wagon. He will join us for general gatherings; Arvis residents all know him and accept him as just a quiet individual.”
“Then I have no actions to take. I am pleased to hear things are well with him.”
“Yes, my Lord. If you will,” Tre`ach stood, “the pyre awaits.”
The men walked over; Stefano took a place in front of the pyre on the left so to appear on the right for those gathered and still give viewing of the pyre itself. He stood there quietly, his mind racing on many issues from the pyre itself: to Runick’s decision, to Vargon, to Gerik and his parents, even to Viktor. When the crowd grew quiet he pulled himself to the present. He scanned those present quickly, seeking out Jence. Not finding him, Stefano turned with the others to watch the progression from the camp. Four men carried the pallet that bore Runick’s body. Although Stefano had not asked, he was certain the body had been prepared then kept during the day in a ‘gammera’ – a wagon used to store tools that worked in dirt, shovels, rakes, and the like.
As the progression grew near, the members of the Arvis community began speaking as if they talked with Runick himself. They wished him peace. They wished him joy. And they celebrated his victory over death. Stefano himself spoke gently, thanking his friend for the missive and envying him for his freedom from the mundane. When the pallet was placed over the prepared wood, a deep hush descended over the kindred. Stefano turned to face the crowd.
“Kindred of Arvis, my family – I speak to you as one with a wounded spirit. Runick was a great man as you know, elder of your community, friend to all who stood within the kumpnia. As a kindred, I mourn with you. As a friend, I mourn the loss of his presence and our conversations together. As a prince, I mourn his influence. It mattered not where he was, it was clear he was there. And he was accessible.”
Stefano paused as many spoke their affirmations and agreements with what had been said. When the kindred quieted, he continued. “I celebrate the life that was Runick te’Arvis. And I celebrate with him his peace and transfer beyond death itself.”
He stopped as Tre`ach stepped forward, holding a fire brand. As Tre`ach stepped near one end of the fire, four young mortals spread along the wood, each of them with fire as well. They lit the pyre as one, in perfect union, as Stefano turned to face the flame and spoke, his voice rich with the authority of a prince. “Din noaptea prin moarte, vedem te avânta. Cu tot ceea ce se afla dincolo, cânt`m pacea `i bucuria voastr` ve`nic`.” (From the night through death, we see you soar. To all that lay beyond, we sing your peace and your joy eternal.)
Stefano stepped back to one side as the people began to sing and speak their farewells. He began to wipe a tear from his face and stopped, allowing his remorse to flow freely. Anyone within earshot of him was surprised as he sang. It wasn’t often a prince sang, and rarely with the tone and clarity of Stefano’s voice.
“Adio, Runick. Pace a ta eterne de.”(Farewell, Runick. Peace eternal be yours.)
His voice dropped to a whisper as he spoke.
“Farewell, my good friend.”
Tomorrow's Shadow - Part III - Full Circle Page 4