The Last Lamenter

They Lament

Weeks passed, I learned all I could of Phyrrha Nikos, a true daughter of the Emperor, before I departed to find my Canvas. They worried, I had heard, at my departure, this was not my intent, though the joy they felt at my return made a pride I feared long since extinguished flare to life. I returned with a great stone carried upon my back, I sat outside the town, many eyes watching my work as it took shape, gasps and tears the morning I had finished her head, a memorial to a hero, a memorial fitting for a true Daughter of the Emperor. Days turned to weeks as the stone took shape. Those who held authority of the town asked me why I carve this stone, why it takes the shape it does, my response was simple: "She fought valiantly, embodied the truest traits of a hero, and deserves a memorial to attest to such."
They agreed, asked my work be placed in a memorial garden when finished. I could not have hoped for more.

They, those who held the towns authority, announced my work is to be the centerpiece of a memorial garden, Jen broke into tears at this, I know this to be true for her first act was to thank me, to sit beside me as I worked, truly I appreciated her efforts to thank me, but I told her as I told those in authority, she deserves no less.

When my works final shape had been reached, my final act was to carve upon it a simple message: 'As noble as a Son of Sanguinius, as strong as a Son of Ferrus, as brave as a Son of Dorn, as kind as a Son of Vulkan.' The town knew not these names, though they understood the significance.

The memorial was lifted onto a pedestal with great care, a plaque reading: 'In honor of Phyrrha Nikos, one of many students who fought Valiantly at the Fall of Beacon' Jen Nikos weeping as she watched her lost child elevated to a Hero and a Martyr, as her child became a symbol of hope, of light, of humility.