Sadie Madison and the Boy in the Crimson Scarf

29 | The Requiem

Thousands of floating candles surrounded The Monument to the Victorious Dead.

A wreath of fire.

Sadie held her candle in one hand. Oliver's in the other.

He looked paler than usual. His crimson scarf pulled over his nose, protecting him from the horrors of the world. His eyes darted through the crowd, never resting for more than a moment on each passing face.

Michael stood with Alexsy Rubinov—shoulder to shoulder—Eli tucked under his other arm. Behind them, Natalia and Dimitri were sharing secrets and playful touches while Larissa and Helene exchanged pleasant smiles, but nothing more.

Branislav and Erik loitered nearby looking stony-faced and bored.

Mayor McKendrick stood upon another platform. This one stood in the schoolyard adjacent to The Monument to the Victorious Dead. He frantically waved his hands above his head, attempting to quieten the reverberating masses. Once everyone arrived and shuffled into position, a hush spread through the crowd leaving nothing but the crackle of fire and the smell of smoke.

Pulling his hands together in prayer, the mayor bowed his head.

Hundreds mirrored him.

One by one, each man in the circle began to sing.

A low murmur.

A long breathy note.

The voices joined together in an intoxicating vocal embrace, increasing in volume, the timbre shifting beautifully, ungoverned and wild. Oliver opened his eyes to see who led the performance, but every head was bowed, every eye shut.

Female voices joined the chorus.

The sound grew wider, louder, brighter. It seemed to spread through Oliver's body—ghostly and intangible as it was—chasing away his anxiety, replacing it with hope.

And when it stopped, it came suddenly.

Voices dropped out of the sky like dying birds.

The crackle of candles fed back into Oliver's consciousness.

He took a breath and risked a glance. Positioned regimentally around the circle stood the enigmatic Ryndai, their eyes open, staring, hands hanging beside their curved blades. Oliver had never gotten used to them. Who could? Silent eyes on every street corner, observing, watching, waiting. He wondered how they let this sort of thing occur. Praying to the dead surely contravened the laws they were sent to uphold.

The mayor was first to open his eyes.

Oliver watched as he observed the faces of the praying masses. The mayor smiled, nodding his head, and then began to sing. The mayor was only a couple of syllables in when everyone suddenly broke into song.

Victory and death, like love and regret.
Triumph and loss, lest we forget.
Always dead. Always remembered.

Burden and forfeit, kept at arms length,
Survival and hope, strength beyond strength,
Always dead. Always remembered.

Life follows life, in love we transcend,
Death follows death, our glorious end.
Always dead. Always remembered.

The voices echoed down the Shadow Valley. Sadie opened her eyes and looked at Oliver. A sombre smile sat on her lips. "Are you okay?" she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Of course," he replied. "That was beautiful, yet sad. I felt transported."

Sadie smiled softly. "The Divine Wars left their impression on everyone. And now it's left something on you too."