Funeral

A glimpse of the Traveler

Baasim remembered the first time he had been to a funeral like a noticeable scar that had refused to fade over time, yet the pain that had caused it had become distant and forgotten like a childhood nightmare. It wasn't for anyone he knew personally, but they were a member of The Order none the less, as that they had lived as a member and had died as one, too. And their passing was unlike how Baasim had figured how people would die in service, as that this member did not go out in a blaze of glory, cutting down many foul enemies in vain as they were ultimately overpowered by the hordes of evil, bringing down many fell beats with them. This member has been older in their years, but not elderly, and if they had seen the world ere The Great Merging, they were likely too young to have remembered much of anything clearly out of the fog of one’s earliest memories.

Instead of a grisly and heroic death they had died slowly of a cancer that had eventually reached and breached their brain, a physical poison spreading through their body that was unable to be removed. The region in which the Stronghold was in where they had died was cold to say the least, so naturally there was a blazing furnace in a strategic position, and when they had died, their bare body had been wrapped in excess cloth, and was paraded down to the furnace where many were gathered to pay their respects. A path was cleared through the crowd, cutting towards the furnace. The shrouded body was carried like a limp bride through the path, and the crowd closed behind the funeral bearer as they went, like a healing wound being stitched back together. The unmentored Baasim had been close to the furnace, and watched with a vague curiosity as the body and the bearer moved ever closer to the wide opening.

The funeral bearer wore Rune enchanted flame resistant protectant clothing, like a magical version of something that a blacksmith would wear to keep themselves from suffering from being burnt by flames, like the flames from the furnace which was now more of a funeral pyre than any actual furnace. When they had died, someone not much older than the young Baasim's had ran about spreading the news and then after only a few hours or so, before rigor mortis had ser its twisting grasp on the cadaver, they had gathered to pay respects for someone who had spent their life in service to The Order. They would not have waited until rigor mortis had set in and sought to demean the body, even if the soul that had lived in it had left painfully, it was still best to be polite and honourable.

Having mastered their training more than those younger than them, the older members bowed their heads only out of respect whereas many of the younger members grieved as the body was atop the kindling in the furnace-pyre, and as smoke began to rise from the body. After laying them down to rest, the funeral bearer stepped back out of the flames, heat radiating off of their enchanted garb. They then removed their helm, held it in their hands, and bowed their head with the rest of the mature crowd. Making an attempt to stifle his emotions and keep to his training, Baasim held tears at bay as they brimmed in his eyes, and he knew that tomorrow, much of this would all be forgotten. The unmentored children would be taught as one mass about respect and putting ones feelings behind them whereas those who were mentored would likely receive their own lesson depending on how they behaved during the ceremony. And in that same day as well, their name would be etched into the Remembrance Halls, their things out into the public stores so that they could find new uses in new hands, and finally, they would fade into memory.

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Author’s note

This piece was originally written for a flashback in my upcoming and debut novel The Traveler. Whereas most of the flashbacks in the novel are written before I reach the scene when they are needed, this one actually naturally came into the flow of the story. While the book is still in an inprogress state. The novel combines the fantasy elements with a unique and gritty surrounding, filled with mystery Magic. It follows Baasim Qadir Asghar, a man born fifty years after a cataclysmic event known as The Great Merging, where Earth in the year 2035 became a part of the heavens, and has never been the same.

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Before you go, here’s a question for you to ponder:

Are our experiences more than they seem, with a deeper meaning than just what we perceive in the moment, or is everything just as it is?

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More Glimpses:

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