Night had fallen over Vera.
The valley that had once echoed with laughter was now illuminated by hundreds of flickering torches.
Their warm light pushed back the darkness...
But it could not drive away the grief that hung over the ruined settlement.
Throughout the afternoon, the warriors of the Varien Tribe had worked without rest.
Every fallen member of Vera had been recovered.
Every body had been washed with clean water.
Every wound had been gently cleaned.
Every face had been covered with a white burial cloth.
No one was left behind.
Not a single soul.
Rows of funeral pyres now stood in the open field just beyond the ruined gates.
Some were large.
Some were small.
One...
Was barely the size of a child.
The sight silently broke the hearts of everyone present.
At the center of the field stood the largest pyre.
Upon it rested two figures.
Varinder.
And Devika.
Even in death...
They remained side by side.
Just as they had lived.
The people slowly gathered around the pyres.
Not only the warriors of the Varien Tribe.
The surviving merchants who had arrived after hearing the news.
Travelers who had once traded with Vera.
Hunters who had shared meals with Varinder.
Even wandering cultivators stopped their journey to pay their respects.
No one spoke loudly.
No one disturbed the silence.
Tonight...
Titles no longer mattered.
Chiefs.
Warriors.
Merchants.
Everyone stood together as mourners.
Lord Cris slowly stepped forward.
A burning torch rested in his hand.
The orange flame illuminated his weathered face.
For several moments...
He simply looked at his son.
The silence stretched on.
No one rushed him.
No one expected him to.
Finally...
The old chief spoke.
"When Varinder was born..."
A faint smile appeared upon his face.
"He screamed louder than any child in the tribe."
A few soft chuckles escaped the crowd.
Even through their tears.
"I remember thinking..."
"This boy will either become a great warrior...
...or give me endless headaches."
A slightly louder laugh echoed across the field.
Lord Cris nodded.
"As it turned out..."
"He became both."
The laughter faded.
His eyes never left his son.
"When he was five years old..."
"He challenged a boy nearly twice his size."
Several elders smiled.
"He lost."
More quiet laughter.
"But before I could stop him..."
"He stood back up."
"And challenged the boy again."
"He lost again."
Even Vicky couldn't help smiling through his tears.
Lord Cris's own lips curved upward.
"The third time..."
"He finally won."
The old chief slowly nodded.
"That was the kind of man he was."
"No matter how many times life knocked him down..."
"He always stood back up."
His expression slowly became solemn once more.
"When he told me he wished to leave this tribe..."
"I was angry."
"I thought he was abandoning his responsibility."
"I believed he was throwing away his future."
Lord Cris lowered his head.
"I was wrong."
The words echoed through the valley.
"My son did not abandon responsibility."
"He simply chose another path."
"He built a home from nothing."
"He protected people who had nowhere else to go."
"He gave countless families a future."
His voice became heavier.
"And when the time came..."
"He gave his own life protecting them."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Lord Cris slowly looked across the gathered crowd.
"Many men become chiefs."
"Many become powerful warriors."
"But very few..."
"...become worthy of being remembered."
His gaze returned to Varinder.
"My son..."
"...was one of them."
The old chief took a deep breath.
"As his father..."
"I could not be more proud."
Slowly...
He lowered the torch.
The flame touched the dry wood.
For a brief moment...
Nothing happened.
Then...
A single spark appeared.
It spread slowly across the pyre.
Soon...
Bright orange flames surrounded Varinder and Devika.
The fire climbed higher and higher.
Its light reflected within every tear-filled eye.
One by one...
The remaining torches were lowered.
Across the valley...
Hundreds of pyres ignited.
The darkness retreated before an ocean of fire.
It was beautiful.
And heartbreaking.
Ananya could no longer endure it.
She collapsed to her knees.
Fresh tears streamed endlessly down her face.
"Mother..."
"Father..."
Her cries echoed through the valley.
Vicky silently knelt beside her.
His own tears flowed freely.
He had lost his closest friend.
A brother in everything except blood.
Inder lowered his head.
His fists remained tightly clenched.
Not even the warriors tried to hide their grief.
Many openly wept.
Others silently saluted the burning pyres.
Every person mourned in their own way.
Only one child remained perfectly still.
Rajiv.
The white egg rested quietly against his chest.
His eyes reflected the dancing flames.
He watched them without blinking.
Without crying.
Without speaking.
The fire slowly consumed his parents.
Consumed the people who had raised him.
Consumed the dream called Vera.
Yet...
Not a single emotion appeared upon his face.
The sight chilled everyone who looked at him.
Lord Cris quietly walked to his grandson's side.
He said nothing.
He simply rested a hand upon the boy's shoulder.
Rajiv slowly looked up.
"The fire is beautiful."
His voice remained calm.
"So warm."
Lord Cris's heart broke all over again.
A five-year-old child should have been crying.
Should have been screaming.
Should have been calling for his parents.
Instead...
He merely observed the flames.
Like someone watching rain fall.
The old chief gently pulled Rajiv into his embrace.
The child did not resist.
But neither did he return the embrace.
He simply stood there.
Silent.
Motionless.
Empty.
Lord Cris closed his eyes.
"Varinder..."
"I couldn't save you..."
"But I swear upon this fire..."
"No one will ever take your children from me."
The flames continued burning long into the night.
They consumed the wood.
They consumed the bodies.
They consumed the final remains of Vera.
Yet they could not consume what Varinder had left behind.
His ideals.
His courage.
His love.
Those things would continue living...
Within the children he had protected until his final breath.
Far above the valley...
The stars quietly watched over the funeral.
And beneath their light...
The founder of Vera finally returned to the heavens.