The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 40: Chapter 40: A Quiet Eulogy

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Chapter 40: A Quiet Eulogy Paladins, priests, and players alike flocked to an open courtyard at the heart of the fortress. They stood in silence as a cold breeze brushed past them, swirling in the midst of a faint mist. Not a stone was seen untouched by their boots. Everyone bowed their heads and waited as the grim Ogier stepped forth, acknowledged them with a wave, and prepared the opening rites. He looked much different compared to his prior attire in battle, or lack thereof to be more precise. Now, he donned long ornate robes of white, black, and gold: a ceremonious garb that surprisingly suited him despite his usual wild demeanor. Lucius supposed that this was a glimpse of the Peer of before, back during a time when burying the dead needed not be a common occurrence. A large tapestry laid before him. The remains of those that could be salvaged were respectfully placed above and covered in cloth, surrounded by an array of candles softly burning under the shade of the setting suns. One by one, a line began to form. Those who harbored personal connection with one of the fallen—or merely wished to pay their respects—walked up and knelt, muttering a quiet prayer before returning to their place and allowing the next mourner forward. It was rather depressing how accustomed they were to the procedures. Ogier watched on all the while, his face cast in a weary shadow. Eventually, when the last of the bereaved had given their dues, the bearded man raised his hand and ordered all to lend their ears. “We gather here today to honor those who have held steadfast, in valor and prestige, the brave warriors of the faith now departed to the realm of our Lord,” he recited. “Let their sacrifice never be forgotten. Let the living revere their memory, so that they may rest peacefully amongst the far heavens among the stars.” An attendant drew near him and offered a gold chalice filled with wine. Ogier took it, made the sign of the empire’s cross, and bared the cup for all to see. “Our brothers and sisters have gone to the embrace of the Lord. May they be welcomed to the table of God’s children in paradise. With faith and hope in eternal bliss, we offer now our prayers.” Ogier dabbed his finger in the wine and marked his face in grand, purposeful strokes. “Blessed is the Eagle, our mother. You sanctify the homes of the living and make holy the places of the dead. You open the gates of love, and lead us to the dwelling of heroes—our ancestors of yesteryear who yet await our final reunion,” he said. “We praise you for your mercy, we bless you for your kindness,” chanted the Franks. “Blessed is the Blade, our protector. You lend us the strength to bring deliverance to our foes and bring sanctity to the graveyard of the fallen. You open the gates of courage, and lead us to glory in the defense and protection of our beloved.” “We praise you for your strength, we bless you for your refuge.” “Blessed is the Star, our will. You imbue us the tenets of chivalry and sate true our souls yearning for honor and goodness. You open the gates of law, and scribe that which allows us to prosper, stalwart before the temptations of evil.” “We praise you for your wisdom, we bless you for your virtue.” Ogier brought his cup to his lips, and then drank the wine in one, long gulp. “Almighty and ever-present God, remember the charity with which you graced your servants in life. Receive them, we pray, as we free their souls from flesh. Deliver them from every bond of sin, so that they may rejoice in you with your chosen forevermore. Amen.” The man clasped his hands together, lowered his head, and deliberated over a moment of silence. It was a time for all to reflect, free from worry or else that burdened them. After a few minutes, Ogier looked up and received a formal staff encrusted with gems. He inspected it, running his hand through the base—then, he thrust the end onto the ground and recited a holy benediction. “Go now, spirits of the faithful. You need not suffer here