The Fire and the Sky (Book 3 of the... - Chapter 48: Chapter 48

"We can't wait much longer," Rue said in a soft voice.
She laid a tender hand on May's shoulder. May, who had been gazing out the window for hours. May, who had given up sleep to keep watch. She was waiting for Emandi, hoping they would come and, ideally, that they would do so before the funeral pyre was lit.
It had been Em's idea to give Welkin an open air funeral. Despite the Star's love of life on the planet, she argued, they had never truly felt at home here. It only made sense that their human body, the one they had loathed with every breath they needed to take, should be released skyward instead. Connor and Dominic had busied themselves with building the pyre, while Rue offered to draw upon her astromancer druidic heritage to perform the funeral rites. For such a terrible, unthinkable situation, it was the best the lot of them could hope for.
Still, May had begged them to wait. She had no idea if Emandi was coming, or how long it would take them to get there if they were. It had only been two days.
But that was still two days of Welkin's body resting in the farmhouse's cold root cellar. Two days of Emanthy, broken with guilt and grief, keeping constant vigil at their side. Two days long enough to know Welkin as they knew them was really and truly gone.
May sighed. She tipped her forehead against the cool window glass and closed her eyes.
"I know. You're right. Let's do it."
Rue gave her shoulder a light squeeze. "I'll get started preparing their body. Perhaps you could help me with Em?"
The house was eerily quiet. Rue collected her supplies and then motioned for May to follow her to the basement stairs. As she passed the kitchen, May caught Priva and Lety huddled together at the table, talking close in low voices. Beyond them, the vibrant red of Jeremy's hair was just visible through the screen door. He sat on the back steps, watching Connor and Dom work. He had barely spoken since they brought Welkin back.
"Have you ever done this before?" May asked as she and Rue descended the stairs. "Prepared a dead body, I mean."
A few steps ahead of her, Rue paused for a moment and looked back over her shoulder. "I have. In my culture, we believe in giving our people a good death. When one of our own passes, we all have parts to play in sending them off."
May wasn't sure what a good death meant, but she nodded anyway. She had never even been to a funeral before, let alone seen a dead body.
At the bottom of the stairs was a half-finished living space where Jeremy spent most of his time. May and Rue stepped over his mess of files and notes to the cellar door on the far side of the room, and followed the stairs it concealed deeper underground. Unlike the basement, the cellar was essentially a glorified hole in the ground. Once used by the original homestead's owners for cold storage of foodstuffs, the cellar had never been fitted with electricity, nor had its flooring ever been finished. That was why, when May and Rue stepped into the cool, dank chamber, they found a smattering of candles burning low, surrounding two figures laid out on the hard packed earth. The first was that of Welkin, whose body rested under the cover of a modest cotton bedsheet. The second figure was Em. She lay curled in a ball at Welkin's side, her head resting on her arm and her unblinking eyes trained on their shroud.
Lips pursed, Rue stepped into the flickering candle light and placed her supplies gently at Welkin's side.
"Em, honey," she whispered. "I'm sorry, but it's time."
"Please, I just need a little more time," Em said. Her voice was feeble from being unused. She reached out and laid a hand on Welkin's chest. "I just..."
She trailed off.
May swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat. She wasn't ready to say goodbye either. Knowing Welkin's body was lying lifeless under that eerie sheet made her chest ache. But she knew her pain didn't come close to what Em was suffering through. She made her way around Welkin's body and knelt at Em's side.
"I know this is hard, love," she said, stroking Em's hair back with a tender touch. "But Rue is right. We need to let them go."
Em was crying before May had finished speaking.
"I was so terrible to them," Em sobbed. "I was only ever an ungrateful brat and all they ever wanted was to make me happy. I can't even remember if I thanked them for anything. They died without knowing how much I really loved them."
May draped herself over Em and pressed a kiss into her cheek. "They knew, Emmy; I promise, Welkin always knew you cared. And you have to know they loved you back. You made them so proud."
She and Rue let Em cry until her tears ebbed to nothing more than a quiet series of sniffles. Rue reached out and laid her hand atop Em's. "I'm not going to make you leave if you'd rather stay, but I think it would be easier if you let me take care of the preparations. You don't need to see Welkin this way."
Squeezing her eyes closed, Em nodded. May helped her to her feet and led her by the hand to the stairs. Em paused before the first step, hesitating. But if she had been considering looking back one last time, she thought better of it. Gripping May's hand, she let her lead her back above ground.
At the top of the second flight of stairs, the couple emerged to find Jeremy standing at the threshold. It seemed he had been retreating to the basement, likely to be alone, and he looked surprised to see them. He looked from May, then to Em, and his expression twisted.
"I'm so sorry, Em," he said quietly, his voice breaking despite his best efforts to remain neutral.
Em's lip trembled as she nodded in reply. "Me too."
The three hesitated, all of them needing something but none of them knowing how to ask for it. Jeremy took a slow, shaky breath in.
"I called them a coward," he confessed. "The first time I had seen Welkin since Audrey died and all I did was say a bunch of shitty things."
His eyes were glassy and he covered them with a hand to hide it. May reached out and pulled him toward them, Em wrapped her free arm around his shoulder, and together they cried.
That evening, as the sun sank low to the west, everyone gathered behind the old farmhouse. Welkin's body had been cleaned, wrapped, and laid atop the pyre Connor and Dom built with care. The shroud in which Rue had wrapped their body covered them head to toe and, though it hurt not to see the Star's lovely face one more time, everyone knew it was for the best. The body on the pyre was just that — a body, an empty vessel. That wasn't Welkin anymore. Instead, what remained of them was swirling idly in the old champagne bottle Em clutched protectively to her chest.
As those Welkin left behind milled around the pyre, dragging out time as long as they could before they proceeded, a familiar cry sounded from the sky. Everyone tipped their faces back, scanning the darkened sky, searching for Fargus. When the raven emerged from the evening shadows and landed gracefully on Dom's shoulder, May held her breath. She didn't like that he had returned alone.
But after Fargus rattled softly in Dom's ear, the forest spirit turned and trained his gaze across the field. May followed his lead and squinted. There, cresting the horizon, was Emandi. The silver cat pounded across the earth on all-fours, leaping effortlessly over the gate and thundering toward the pyre. They wore their dark traveling cloak and the ends of it billowed like trailing wings behind them as they ran.
Despite their formidable speed, Emandi was able to come to a quick, cantering stop as they reached the others. They rose majestically onto their powerful hind legs and pushed the hood of their cloak back to reveal their bright magenta eyes, which glowed softly in the twilight. May heard the others gasp and realized they likely had never met the ancient creature before.
Towering as they were, Emandi did not need to strain to see atop the pyre. They bent their head over Welkin's shrouded corpse, sniffing curiously. Their expression hardened for a moment, as if in disbelief, and then slackened into sorrowful acceptance.
"Oh, my dear Welkin," Emandi murmured. The sound of their smooth, deep voice elicited another round of quiet gasps from WIND. "How devastating. Thank you for blessing me with your friendship these many years."
Emandi closed their eyes and laid one of their massive forepaws on Welkin's body. After a moment of silence, the creature lifted their head and looked directly at Em. She sobbed. As Emandi rounded the pyre, she darted to meet them, throwing herself into their outstretched arms.
"I'm so terribly sorry, my child," Emandi said, lifting Em off the ground as though she were a small child. She nuzzled into their soft mane and wept.
"I'm so glad you're here," May said. Behind her she could hear Dom explaining who and what Emandi was to the others in a low voice.
"Was it Sita?" Emandi asked. "Did the Stars do this?"
May nodded and Emandi sighed.
"Is there anything you can do?" May implored.
Emandi shook their head. "I'm afraid not. The body is finished, I can smell it from here. Welkin's life force—"
"Is right here," Em interrupted, sitting up quickly. She held the bottle up so they could see the tiny nebula inside. Emandi inhaled sharply at the sight of it, taking the bottle in one of their paws and turning it to examine its contents more closely. A small, sad smile tugged at their mouth.
"I see the inclination to cheat death runs in the family," they said. And then they sighed. "But I'm afraid there may not be enough here to work with."
Em choked, pressing a hand over her lips. "I knew it. I knew I did something wrong."
"No, not at all," Emandi reassured. They set her gently back on the ground. "You must understand, Welkin's life force has already been transferred to a new vessel once before when they were made human. Think of it as a handful of sand: no matter how careful you are, when you try to pour that sand into your other hand, you will lose grains in the process."
May was gutted. She had never spoken her hope out loud for fear of jinxing it, but she had been so certain Emandi would have been able to save Welkin one last time.
"So there's nothing you can do?" she asked.
Em gazed up at the bottle, heartbreak written all over her face. "But, what do we do with them then? Are we just supposed to... what? Let them evanesce?"
Emandi frowned, but did not answer. They lifted the bottle against the backdrop of the setting sun and inspected it in silence.
"There may be something..." they admitted at last. "But you need to understand that Welkin as you know them is gone. And I cannot make you any promises."
May's heart skipped. She grabbed Em's hand and held it tightly. "Thank you."
Behind them, Rue cleared her throat. "Shall we begin?"
This time, it was Em who squeezed May's hand, but she did not argue. Emandi tucked the bottle safely into their cloak and followed them to where the others stood together, giving Rue a respectful nod. It struck May as rather incredible to have them both in one place — Rue, a Starborn directly descended from the planet's first humans, and Emandi, one of the first creatures born from the love of the earth and the Sun. She only wished such a meeting could have come under different circumstances.
Before the pyre was lit, Em lifted herself into the air. She hovered high enough so that she could lean over Welkin, and kissed their forehead one last time. When she was finished with her goodbyes, she drifted back down and let May pull her into a tight embrace.
Rue conducted the final rites, offering a blessing unto Welkin's body and bidding it to return to the universe.
"For we are all made of stardust," she concluded. "And no exile could take that from you, dear friend."
May didn't want to watch as Dom set the pyre ablaze, but she felt she owed Welkin to at least bear witness. The fire grew quickly, its heat forcing them all back several paces. From there, they thankfully couldn't see anything beyond the flames.
The burning would take all night. Rue and Dom tended to the fire, adding sweet scented woods to the pyre as it burned and sprinkling in herbs of sacred properties across the many hours.
All the while, May clung to Em, watching as the body of the Star who brought them to one another turn to ash and disappear skyward.