***
Mama Oojeen and I watched as the Diviners unhinged Izkeh’s coffin from the bottom of the Isle, flapping our wings in unison as we kept afloat. We each took a handle on the side of the golden box. With wing power assistance from Izkeh’s friends and fellow Watchers, we carried Izkeh to the top of the Isle where he would receive his last rite.
The Diviners removed my brother’s body from the box, setting it on the altar as a priestess gave him a final blessing. Another lit the funeral pyre, and gestured for us to say our last goodbyes.
Izkeh was covered from head to toe with bandages in the color of his Obligation, red. Only his closed eyes remained visible. Mama Oojeen leaned down and gave his bandaged forehead a kiss. “Rest well, my child. Be happy in Paradise,” she said, touching his head one last time.
“I will miss you, big brother,” I whispered, mimicking Mama Oojeen and gave him a peck. I touched his closed eyes. They were cold on my finger tips, but the contact left me with a renewed feeling, like peeling off the worn leaf covering my healed foot wound.
My brother’s death would leave a scar on my heart, on my very soul. But this time, I didn’t mind.
Because that meant I would remember.
I backed away from Izkeh and allowed the Diviners to take him to the pyre. They covered his bandaged body with gold cloth, then hoisted it into the pit. Sparks flew as the textile touched the burning coals, and white smoke slithered into the sky.
We circled the pyre as the flames slowly turned Izkeh’s body to ash. Some sang to keep themselves occupied, while others began hushed conversations. Diviners passed around cricket chips and rain water in cups, keeping the funeral participants full and hydrated.
Man Ang’Gals in all walks of life and in every Obligation — Healers, Diviners, Watchers, Designers, Traders, Crafters and Foragers — came to pay their respects. It warmed my heart to see how many lives my brother had touched.
I saw Yovehn across the pyre, sitting amongst his fellow Watchers. But I caught him looking at me more than once, to which I responded with a smile.
It was easier to smile these days.
“You seem happier,” L’seel remarked from my left. There were dark circles beneath her eyes as though she had not been sleeping.
“I am. It had been a hard seven weeks, but I’m healing,” I said.
“Good.” L’seel nodded, her lips curling upward. Not quite a smile, but near one. “It’s what your brother would have wanted.”
“He would have wanted you to be happy too.”
“Perhaps,” she said, turning to look at the burning pyre. “I’m moving back to the Isle. We’re going to be neighbors again. I hope you won’t mind if I come over some time.”
“I won’t.”
“And maybe then you’ll be awake?” L’seel wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s more appropriate to actually talk to your guests instead of eavesdropping on them.”
A shadow of a laugh escaped me, or what I thought was a laugh. I had forgotten how it felt to laugh. “Of course.”
We started at the flames in silence. We didn’t need to speak, because words no longer mattered.