when a fire starts to burn

And when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata

The funeral pyre sat in the midday sun, surrounded by the mourning family and friends of Rhiannon Cassidy. She was a soldier who had fallen in the line of duty, or so Nina had heard. The exact details of the girl's death were lost on the Keeper; she cared little for such things, preferring to focus on the upcoming ritual instead. Perhaps it made her cold or distant, but if she were to fall apart at every death in Halo, what kind of spiritual leader would she be?

So she stood back from the pyre, her companion at her side. The little fireball hissed and spit periodically, flames dancing in some imagined breeze, but it was otherwise still and silent, reflecting its bonded's respect for the family and loved ones of the fallen. This was not a time for merriment, but a reason for somber reflection upon the sacred beauty of life. 

Or so Nina would say, were anyone to ask her. In truth, she was a little bored. She hadn't known Rhiannon, just as she hadn't known most of the souls she commended to Mort's realm by way of fire. It was simply a part of her duties. And even if she devoutly believed in the sanctity of those duties... this was by far her least favorite.

In any case, she made for an imposing figure, dressed in all black and gazing solemnly out at the emotional masses. It would be time to light the pyre soon, but for now, all she could offer those who mourned the soldier was quiet strength and the conviction that the girl's soul would soon rest with Mort.

I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it matters

Nina

and the only solution was to stand and fight

Between searching for Ru and tending to everything else with Halo or his own family, the letter he’d received the day before had been a shocking one. He couldn’t quite fathom why; he’d certainly encountered death and loss a hundred times over in various ways – war made the gestures nearly simplistic, despite the barbarity, the cruelty, and the depths of despair associated. Perhaps because Rhiannon’s had been purely incidental and accidental – just a soldier on duty, trying to break up a fight. Deimos had figured if he and several other Shields went to great lengths, they’d be able to discover who or why it occurred (and in some part of his mind, it’d be retribution to a friend gone, because he had naught else to give). Instead, it’d been a host of dead ends and loose threads, and it’d likely take several more interims to unravel the knot. For now, he’d placed more guards (the ones not to so close to her) in those sections, with every intention of later ripping out the seedier bars. No need to repeat.

Standing amidst the intended funeral pyre again made his jaw clench, piercing eyes going towards her still form. Grief was just a part of him as so many other elements; stoicism another. His solemnity would go further, out of the public eye, when everything didn’t seem too muddled and conflicting. He took a deep breath and watched the crowd, towering over most as they ambled around, extending their woes and apologies to Rhiannon’s family. He could go over there too, but it seemed crowded, and the last thing he wanted to do was render attention upon himself.

Instead, his brow arched as he watched the Keeper of the First Flame. This one was new, a replacement since the elder had passed on too, likely her own family member. Sighing, and wondering if he should introduce himself, he started with a low rumble. “Sorry to hear about your loss,” he offered in polite accord. Granting a long pause in between, and striving to decipher a whole host of patterns and complexities, he tilted his head. “Did you know her?” he jutted his jawline towards Rhiannon’s form; pondering if she was here strictly for the rites, or like many of them, the unfortunate wake of another perished.

DEIMOS

And when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata

A low, rumbling voice broke the stillness surrounding the Keeper. She turned her dark gaze upon a figure she knew immediately, though they had yet to be formally introduced. Perhaps her grandmother had thought there time for that still, but then death had claimed her. That funeral had been a small, private affair; it was only Nina there to grieve for the grumpy old woman who had raised her. That was the way her grandmother would have wanted it, though.

Pulling herself from the memory, Nina offered a quiet, "No." Her gaze was solemn as it fixed on Deimos's. "But I now know of her, thanks to the loved ones who have shared her story. Her memory will live on." Long after Rhiannon was ash, her family and friends would carry her with them. And even though Nina was not among their number, so, too, would she hold a piece of the soldier's memory. "I am sorry. I understand that she was a soldier. You must have known her." The statement was calm, with no intent to pry further - a simple recognition that as Warden, he would have more reason to grieve than she.

I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it matters

Nina

and the only solution was to stand and fight

The no registered; signifying her role here as dutiful, and he stilled again, wondering if he could simply fade into the background. Nodding his understanding, he didn’t expect her to follow suit on her own inquiry, and the solemnity of the moment dragged down the back of his spine as it so often did when confronted with ghosts; frame begging him to forge and steel onward while his mind confronted the wraith of the present. “She was a good friend,” first and foremost. Rhiannon had always reminded him of Aisha – easily bored and rankled, akin to wanting to do well, to flourish and follow duties, to strive onward and forward even after she’d made critical errors and mistakes. Energetic, sometimes complaining about the more mundane tasks – and in the end, she’d only been trying to do her duty in the face of something so asinine. “I think, after living through so many things, we always forget how easily others are lost.” To take portions for granted; to expect to see those cherished individuals on the other side, day after day.

That too, made his blood boil; rankling the edges. He clenched his jaw tightly, eyes wandering back to her family as they extended other portions with the milling crowd. Instead of joining, he extended his hand out in introductions towards the Keeper. “I am Deimos,” he offered; figuring she knew, but felt it necessary just the same.

DEIMOS

And when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata

A good friend. More than just a soldier, then. Nina had to imagine that losing someone who followed you had to be difficult, but losing someone with whom you had a personal connection had to be so much harder. "I am sorry," she said again, voice softening, genuine in her condolences despite the awkwardness that always seemed to accompany them.

Ember stirred beside her, drifting towards Deimos in a faint show of interest as Nina held out her hand, taking the Warden's in a polite grip. "I am Nina," she said. It was strange to be presented in this way to Halo's leader; she would have anticipated a formal introduction, were her grandmother still alive and performing the duties that now belonged to Nina. As it were, she could only nod respectfully. "Perhaps we can speak more soon," she suggested after a beat. "I do not wish to keep you from joining the others."

I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it matters

Nina

and the only solution was to stand and fight

He nodded at the condolences; taking the name given and committing it to more memories. His eyes flickered briefly to the little fire elemental thereafter though, half-wondering if it would want any of the treats he had stowed away in his pockets for his own companions, but then there were other matters. At her suggestion, he glanced back towards the family, wondering if she’d caught his avoidance or merely wanted to get things moving along. “Right,” he sighed, feeling another weight added to his shoulders, before long strides were taking him towards further trepidation.

These matters were never an easy predicament, and the truth was sometimes he simply didn’t know what to say. There were the standard phrases, the sorrows, and it despite rehearsing some of the verses out loud beforehand, it hadn’t made the instances any better. Approaching the remains of Rhiannon’s group, he bowed his head, partaking in the apologies, words of soldiers and their duties, their strength, and her diligence, waiting for some blame to be placed upon himself or anything that might’ve meant anger could go somewhere. Thereafter, he presented the remains of her things left in the barracks: some of her weapons, a few articles of clothing, a bag, and any other artifacts. Whether or not they would like to add them to the pyre would be up to the family – he understood how the tangible were sometimes all they had left.

DEIMOS

And when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata

Deimos departed, leaving Nina to hope that she’d made a decent first impression; she watched as the Warden joined the grieving, offering words of condolences and physical reminders of the deceased. Some items made it onto the funeral pyre, placed lovingly beside their owner to be sent to the afterlife alongside her; others were kept, tokens of a life well-lived and a love lost. Eventually, the family caught Nina’s eye and nodded. It was time.

Ember rolled diligently beside Nina as she stepped up to the pyre. Solemnly, she gave a brief speech, acknowledging Rhiannon and the role she’d played not only in the lives of her family and friends, but her community. ”We send her now to Mort’s halls, where we know she will stay in peace until we see her again,” she finished. Then, lifting her hands, she called upon her magic; flames lit beneath the pyre and began to climb, quickly overtaking the wood beneath the soldier until the entire mound was aflame, hiding the quick destruction of her remains.

It always took time in the aftermath of the lighting for the fallen’s loved ones to trickle out. Some left quickly, unable to stand the sight or smell of the burning body. Others lingered, not yet willing to let go. Feeling detached and awkward, Nina stepped back to once more give them their privacy, Ember at her side, and waited. Once all had left and the flames had died, she would gather the ashes for the family, to do with what they would. But that would take some time, and she would wait as long as was needed for them to find peace.

I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it matters

Nina

and the only solution was to stand and fight

Pyres were symbolic gestures – a life received back into the fold of flames, and earth, the soul already long gone to Mort and his halls. Still, it never felt any easier to watch a compatriot and friend be surrendered over to them. He liked to think he would’ve fought for her – just as he’d done for so many before – reaching outwards and trying to pull them away from the claws and death, with power, with might. But just as so many had succumbed no matter what’d he done, so too had Rhiannon, and it'd be another guilty entry into the long list of names scribed in his mind. He bowed his head and left the words behind his teeth, a long breath to flicker with the fire, solemn, quiet, nearly silenced and still save for the warm puffs of air gathered from the cold. He thought of lanterns in the following season, of young soldiers venturing out to commit to their duties, and just how often they wandered into their death – merely protecting their region, serving their role.

Ceasing before the self-loathing began again, his gaze traced after those receding back into the pathways and stone. The guilt gnawed though, and he pushed forward, seeking Nina out again to wage his own tempest against the restlessness. “Do you need any help?”

DEIMOS

And when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata

The gathered slowly trickled away, returning from whence they came. Nina watched them go, nodding solemnly to those who paused to offer their thanks, offering what condolences she could as they departed. Finally, few remained, save for Deimos, who ended up back beside her as he offered to assist. Nina glanced past him to the flames, which burned lower and lower. There was little left now to burn, and before long, the fire would snuff out entirely. Then she could gather the ashes to seal in their urn for returning to the family.

”I will gather the ashes when the fire burns out,” she replied. ”The family has chosen an urn. It is uncommon to receive assistance, but if you would like to help gather the ashes, you may.” Even if the interruption to the ritual made her skin crawl, she knew better than to offend the Warden. The last person who had helped her clean up ashes had been her grandmother, and then it was she who was the awkward assistant. It was strange now to think that her role had so completely changed.

I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it matters

Nina

and the only solution was to stand and fight

He was observant to a fault, and certainly enough to discern that despite his wanting to assist and help, to ease the restlessness careening through his frame, he’d stepped on some pitfall. Wanting to be helpful, useful, when there was not much else for him to accomplish but mourn didn’t mean he could simply demolish his way through. Stepping back, he took the hint, half-tempted to unfurl the flames further, but granted a solemn apology instead. “Sorry. Did not mean any offense.”

Perhaps he’d become so used to being inundated with every task, that when it came to rituals or a place he wasn’t necessary, he wasn’t certain of what to do, incapable of lingering in the stillness. Or being left to his own devices when it came to grief was still an uncomfortable position, and it was easier to delve into action, rather than sit in the laments. That wasn’t her problem – nor did she need to permit him space to occupy himself. “Thank you for your efforts,” he offered instead, beginning his retreat.

DEIMOS

And when that sky rains fire on you
And you're persona non grata

At the Warden’s apology, Nina winced faintly, waving a hand through the air as though to dismiss the words. ”There is no apology necessary, unless it is mine; your assistance would be welcome, if you would like to give it.” She swallowed hard, then offered a small, apologetic smile. ”I am still learning how to function as Keeper. Please forgive my rudeness.”

But Deimos was withdrawing; she could see that as well as any, and she nodded steadily, reaching and grasping for her dignity and the quiet, confident air that her grandmother had always held, drawing it on like a comforting cloak. ”I am sorry that there is not more that I can do,” she said, softening as she considered once more that Deimos was a grieving man, just like those who had already left. ”If you think of anything that would be useful, my door is always open.”

I'll tell you how I've been there too
And that none of it matters

Nina

and the only solution was to stand and fight

He’d already begun his withdrawal, mind settling into those quiet, melancholic voids; jaw clenching while the rest of the fire burned, leaving little of his friend behind until that too was dust and ash and remnants of bone. Nina called back, but he’d mottled that as well, and he shook his head, granting a light smile that dispersed quickly thereafter. “It is fine. Thank you.” Hoping enough gratitude and acknowledgment had placated the blunders of his missteps, he sighed, taking one last glance back at the pyre; wondering if another review of his notes would lead to anything at all – or if Rhiannon would simply be another consumed and swallowed up by the world with nothing to show for it but the absence left behind.

[FIN]

DEIMOS