Chapter 26

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Diarmaid did not receive Waverly's tale as well as she had hoped. He became even more devastated and blamed himself harder for his brother's demise. The Crossing rites did not last many hours because of the freezing weather but for Waverly, it could not have gone any slower. Time went by at a snail's pace as Dermot's robes caught the flames and ignited; the air moved like liquid as the flames rose higher and higher bathing every face in yellow light, every teardrop seemed to take forever to fall to the ground as Waverly watched the body gradually but progressively disintegrate to nothing but grey ashes.

At last, the whole thing was over.

One by one the small crowd began to take their leave and before they did, each one came up to Diarmaid to either whisper condolences or give him a comforting hug. As for Waverly, she received a few gentle pats and hugs from her friends.

Soon, the wide yard was empty.

Waverly glanced up and saw that only four people still remained, standing in a wide circle around the single burning pyre; Diarmaid, Brijjet and Aurora. The fourth presence was Borzoi who sat on her heels at a separate distance, staring into the flames as if she could still see Dermot inside it but there was nothing but ashes. None of Dermot's relatives had been present because both his parents were the only children of their own respective parents.

The sound of the calm, open sea muddled with the crackling of flames gave off an odd heartbreaking melody that pervaded the night. Other than this, the silence was overpowering. Waverly felt her legs threaten to turn into jelly before she finally decided to leave. She turned from the blazing pyre and walked toward Diarmaid. He wore a thick brown overcoat with the hood drawn halfway over his head. In his clothing, he outsent an unruffled composure but she was well aware of the turbulence that laid underneath.

"I just want you to know. . . that he was right." She began.

Diarmaid glanced at her, his hair sloppy and dull like the nest of a paper wasp.

"It wasn't your fault." She completed.

Diarmaid dropped his gaze and Waverly's eyes followed. It was then she realized what he had been clutching the entire time - Dermot's hunting cloak. He slowly lifted it toward her.

"I am glad that you get to take care of this, because i couldn't." He said quietly.

Up close, he looked slightly dishevelled. She knew that he would have to wait until the fires died down completely to collect his brother's ashes before he could leave. He would be the one to seal them in the vault. But there was a weakness in his tone that suggested he would keel over if he spoke another word. Waverly felt a pressing desire to pull him into a hug but found that she could not take any step closer.

She silently received the cloak and ran her thumbs across it. She had always thought it looked funny on Dermot only because it was obviously made for a woman. Looking at the clothing, one would think it was remarkably plain and unattractive but Waverly did not think so. It was sewn from a delicate, deep brown material and had a greyish clasp. It was a few feet longer than a normal cloak but Dermot had fit in it perfectly. Waverly imagined she would have to grow as tall as he to fit in it too but that would prove a bit impossible as she had no trace of Elvish blood in her.

She turned to observe Brijjet and Aurora who held each other's arms in solemn quietude. They had also been close friends with Dermot but Waverly could not fangle any words of comfort to say to them. Brijjet wore a stoic expression but Waverly reckoned he was only trying to look brave for his and Aurora's sake because the latter had been a weeping mess. It struck a nerve in her witnessing Aurora cry so much. She had thought the Elven princess would be the last person to shed two teardrops for Dermot and that even if she did, it would only be to fuel her supercilious, self-conceited image to gain approval from her husband. The one time they had gotten along for a few moments was when Waverly healed the princess's eyes but that was not reason enough to tag themselves “friends”.

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