"We had laid father in his coffin and declared three weeks of mourning after his passing. People had visited the chapel to pay their last respects to him from far and wide, and with Aideen's aid we kept his body in pristine shape.
From far and wide pilgrims came to pay their last respects to father, and I hope he would be satisfied in the afterlife by their sincerity and grief at his passing. For many of our people father had been synonymous with the nation itself, and his passing, meant for them the end of an era.
I will not lie that I had harbored hopes that whatever happened to Aideen - especially so since she herself had confirmed that she was not a special case, just possibly the first we came to know of - would also happen to father, but after a week, that hope was put to naught.
I wish that father be happy, wherever he is now, and may he be at peace, for we shall strive our best to shoulder the burdens that were once his to carry." - Diary of Ciarran Fiachna, head of the Templar Order in the Theocracy of Vitalica, circa 47 VA.
Grand Chapel, La Fiachna, Theocracy of Vitalica, sixth day of the fourth week of the second month, year 47 VA.
A solemn air filled the grand chapel of Vitalica that day. Before the altar, laid a coffin on a raised pedestal. The body of Theodin Fiachna, the first Pope of Vitalica, who passed away in his sleep at the age of eighty six last week, lay within.
His successor as pope, Amaryllis Gentry, led the prayer attended by all the councillors of Vitalica and other important people, including the late Pope's family. By the sides of the chapel, templar knights in full armor stood at attention as they respectfully declined their heads in mourning for the late pope.
They were the last to pay their respects, as they had allowed the commoners to pay their respects first for the past week, the pope's body maintained in pristine condition by magical aid. As one, they rose and genuflected at the direction of the coffin when Amaryllis ended her prayer.
Then she looked at Kestera who stood besides Diarmuid - similarly dressed in the blacks of mourning as her husband -, and nodded.
It was a permission for the elven girl to carry on with her suggestion, which she had made a few days ago, in which she asked to be allowed to sing a song of departure for the late pope, as per elvish tradition. The family has agreed, and since the time had come, Kestera brought out a lyre from her storage, and began to sang with a melodic, yet melancholic voice.
Where do I begin~
To tell the story, of how one man's life changed~
The fate of thousands, as well as their future kin~
To rise in arms, against the wicked overlords~
Where do I start~
While the solemn song played, the Fiachna family approached the coffin, and gave their last goodbyes to the late patriarch. The way he laid peacefully in the casket, with a gentle smile on his face, made his family think that he might have just fallen asleep at times.
With the first bellow~
He raised a stone high, and with it struck down his foe~
His feat of strength, encouraged those, so far oppressed~
Together they rose up in rebellion against vice~
With life in line~
After they were done, templar knights brought the casket's lid over, and carefully closed the casket tight. Instead of nails, wooden bolts were slotted in to lock the lid in place, designed in such a way that someone inside could have removed them with relative ease. Ciarran had yet to given up hope that maybe the phenomenon that happened to Aideen might just happen again.
They went afield~
With many battles fought, with faith and love, they fight on to the end~
Their fight went on, until the end~
And they weren't alone, for others joined them~
With helping hands, and arms to present~
Together they fight, a flame ablaze~
When it came time to carry the casket to the cemetery, Ciarran had chosen to have his family carry it themselves. Despite his now advanced age of sixty-five, he was still hale of heart and body, and would not have declined the task for any reason.
He took the front right of the casket and shouldered it, while Faerghus stood across the casket from him. Diarmuid and Aideen shouldered the rear part of the casket, while Aoife led the procession alongside Akeshia and Kestera, behind where Amaryllis led the templars to clear the way.
In the end they had~
Proved victor through so many gruelling times~
For a land was theirs now, a place to call home~
Where they raised a nation with their ideals bright~
And life went on~
It had rained as they walked out. While winter was in the midst of giving way to spring, the cold rain still brought a deep chill into the air. And yet despite the rain, a crowd had gathered outside the chapel, and along the way to the cemetery, arrayed into neat lines with a way in the middle for the procession to walk through.
Practically the entire city had come out, to pay their respects to the late pope, and Ciarran saw how many openly wept as he walked past them. He himself had to wipe his tears on several occasions, but disguised it as wiping the rainwater from his face instead.
Now his time had come~
He welcomed the end without a complaint to say~
How proud was he of the nation they had built~
That he departed with no regrets left to voice~
Please rest in peace~
When they arrived at the cemetery, the prepared gravesite awaited, and the four of them reverently lowered the casket down into the grave. They prayed as the grave was filled in, a prayer that their departed patriarch be well, wherever he is.
And so that his soul, may rest in peace.
"We had laid father in his coffin and declared three weeks of mourning after his passing. People had visited the chapel to pay their last respects to him from far and wide, and with Aideen's aid we kept his body in pristine shape.
From far and wide pilgrims came to pay their last respects to father, and I hope he would be satisfied in the afterlife by their sincerity and grief at his passing. For many of our people father had been synonymous with the nation itself, and his passing, meant for them the end of an era.
I will not lie that I had harbored hopes that whatever happened to Aideen - especially so since she herself had confirmed that she was not a special case, just possibly the first we came to know of - would also happen to father, but after a week, that hope was put to naught.
I wish that father be happy, wherever he is now, and may he be at peace, for we shall strive our best to shoulder the burdens that were once his to carry." - Diary of Ciarran Fiachna, head of the Templar Order in the Theocracy of Vitalica, circa 47 VA.
Grand Chapel, La Fiachna, Theocracy of Vitalica, sixth day of the fourth week of the second month, year 47 VA.
A solemn air filled the grand chapel of Vitalica that day. Before the altar, laid a coffin on a raised pedestal. The body of Theodin Fiachna, the first Pope of Vitalica, who passed away in his sleep at the age of eighty six last week, lay within.
His successor as pope, Amaryllis Gentry, led the prayer attended by all the councillors of Vitalica and other important people, including the late Pope's family. By the sides of the chapel, templar knights in full armor stood at attention as they respectfully declined their heads in mourning for the late pope.
They were the last to pay their respects, as they had allowed the commoners to pay their respects first for the past week, the pope's body maintained in pristine condition by magical aid. As one, they rose and genuflected at the direction of the coffin when Amaryllis ended her prayer.
Then she looked at Kestera who stood besides Diarmuid - similarly dressed in the blacks of mourning as her husband -, and nodded.
It was a permission for the elven girl to carry on with her suggestion, which she had made a few days ago, in which she asked to be allowed to sing a song of departure for the late pope, as per elvish tradition. The family has agreed, and since the time had come, Kestera brought out a lyre from her storage, and began to sang with a melodic, yet melancholic voice.
Where do I begin~
To tell the story, of how one man's life changed~
The fate of thousands, as well as their future kin~
To rise in arms, against the wicked overlords~
Where do I start~
While the solemn song played, the Fiachna family approached the coffin, and gave their last goodbyes to the late patriarch. The way he laid peacefully in the casket, with a gentle smile on his face, made his family think that he might have just fallen asleep at times.
With the first bellow~
He raised a stone high, and with it struck down his foe~
His feat of strength, encouraged those, so far oppressed~
Together they rose up in rebellion against vice~
With life in line~
After they were done, templar knights brought the casket's lid over, and carefully closed the casket tight. Instead of nails, wooden bolts were slotted in to lock the lid in place, designed in such a way that someone inside could have removed them with relative ease. Ciarran had yet to given up hope that maybe the phenomenon that happened to Aideen might just happen again.
They went afield~
With many battles fought, with faith and love, they fight on to the end~
Their fight went on, until the end~
And they weren't alone, for others joined them~
With helping hands, and arms to present~
Together they fight, a flame ablaze~
When it came time to carry the casket to the cemetery, Ciarran had chosen to have his family carry it themselves. Despite his now advanced age of sixty-five, he was still hale of heart and body, and would not have declined the task for any reason.
He took the front right of the casket and shouldered it, while Faerghus stood across the casket from him. Diarmuid and Aideen shouldered the rear part of the casket, while Aoife led the procession alongside Akeshia and Kestera, behind where Amaryllis led the templars to clear the way.
In the end they had~
Proved victor through so many gruelling times~
For a land was theirs now, a place to call home~
Where they raised a nation with their ideals bright~
And life went on~
It had rained as they walked out. While winter was in the midst of giving way to spring, the cold rain still brought a deep chill into the air. And yet despite the rain, a crowd had gathered outside the chapel, and along the way to the cemetery, arrayed into neat lines with a way in the middle for the procession to walk through.
Practically the entire city had come out, to pay their respects to the late pope, and Ciarran saw how many openly wept as he walked past them. He himself had to wipe his tears on several occasions, but disguised it as wiping the rainwater from his face instead.
Now his time had come~
He welcomed the end without a complaint to say~
How proud was he of the nation they had built~
That he departed with no regrets left to voice~
Please rest in peace~
When they arrived at the cemetery, the prepared gravesite awaited, and the four of them reverently lowered the casket down into the grave. They prayed as the grave was filled in, a prayer that their departed patriarch be well, wherever he is.
And so that his soul, may rest in peace.
