Expedition Report: V. 9087 Last Respects

Under Bright Skies

It was a distant planet in the outer arms of the galaxy, a lonely thing where few of our kind wandered. It was treated as a pensive place, the CItadel here nearly empty at all times. One of the few that never had a sprawling metropolis' webbing its way over the surface. For a Burned it was in remarkably good condition, the scorching over the surface having long eroded away.

I was surprised to see that there was life on this world as well, while only in one isolated area, it was still unusual. No animals or insects, nothing so complex, but a vast field of moss, with a short forest of mushroom trees slowly turning rock into soil. Very few varieties and species, but enough to sustain the ecosystem of the area. As I crested over a small hillock, wings thoroughly enjoying the unadulterated sunlight soaking up the past grace of Mother, I noticed a small pool.

I thought only to rest here, and enjoy the soft breeze wafting through the thin air. The pool clearly being the only water source for many hundreds of miles, I had seen none other than this. Perhaps there was a vast aquifer beneath the surface of this now alien world, and that this was the only surface expression that existed here. Crystal clear, perfectly placid like a mirror held still under a brilliant sunrise.

Not the breeze, not any convective currents, nothing disturbed the waters. Only after I had wandered at the place for a long while as the Rebreather cataloged data of the atmosphere and magic ambiance. Song's Afterglow was very powerful here, perhaps this was why the area had been able to support life so quickly?

The longer I stared at the bottom of the pool, did it slowly dawn on me that there was something down there. Stretching my wings as I arched my back, I took flight moving slowly so my wing beats did not disturb the water. It was a longer moment still before what I was looking at registered in my mind. A body, scorched and nothing but bones, but a body nonetheless.

I flew low over the water, it would hurt my wings if I let them dip in, but I levitated low. Holding my wings completely open, they looked peaceful down there. Resting in eternal slumber, but its hands contorted as if they had wanted to face upward in the end never having managed it before they died. "Command: Requesting the extraction of a cadaver, Over."

The static in my ears verberate oddly, the distance must be distorting the signal. I repeated the request while funneling my own power into the transmitter. "Negative, unfortunate but we cannot risk bringing anything back. We cannot give the Shadows anything to hunt."

I didn't respond as I was required. I dipped my fingertips into the water and it burned. Curse this, the brilliant sun was providing a bit too much for me, it was making it difficult to suppress the Divine Spark gifted to me by Syn. Sometimes I wished I was a little older, and easier to control. "Scout Realm, Respond"

"Acknowledged, I will be paying some last respects, it's the least I can do."

"Granted, do you have what you need?" The comms dropped, only muffled static in my ears again as I worked on suppressing my own power to make this a bit less painful.

Reaching past the railgun belted to my back, I pulled a long knife out of its sheath. I could see the imprint where wings had been, definitely one of my people. "Warmth, grant me strength," I whispered as I dropped into then shockingly cold water.

My throat tightened up, my eyes went fuzzy as they adjusted. My wings stung like someone had unleashed a beehive on them, still I was undettered as I swam down to the Fallen. The water slowly swirled around me as the fire in my soul heated the water quickly. I noticed a few things, the faerie had been on their side like they were sleeping. "Sad," I thought, never even given the chance to wake.

Though everything was yelling at me to get out of the water, my sense of duty kept me down there. Moving each bone carefully so they they lay on their back and view the sky. The water around my wings boiled despite me trying to suppress the power in them. Reaching behind my neck, hair swirling in the pool, I took my necklace off. A symbol of Syn, carefully layered in illusion after illusion to keep the prying eyes of the Shadows from seeing it. I placed it around the body's neck.

I felt the air in my lungs start to give as I placed the knife in its hands. I wouldn't hold any longer, I was out of air as it was, besides the contact stinging of the water against my skin. I surfaced, gratefully pulling in a deep breath, gasping for more in the thin air. Back on shore of the pool, the water clinging to me quickly evaporated from my clothes and wings. "Huh, being a child of fire does have a few small benefits," I said to no one in particular.

I sat down on a rock and pondered at the odd circumstance of my fallen sibling. A creature of fire and warmth, burned away in a universe-wide hell-storm all for the hope of a better future by our very own Sun. To be entombed below a small lake, seemed ironic to me. The sun was beginning to set on this planet, surely the Rebreather had gathered enough data to satisfy the Elsewhere?

I fell off my rock as I noticed someone else next to me. Dozens of Warnings went off in my visor, Shadow, Miasma, Danger, exessive heat, comms interruption. Scrambling back to my feet, the woman wasn't even looking at me. Her form shifted from something that looked like one of my people, antlers and all, to something that shifted in form like a harpy, as well as anything someone could thing of in between those two.

The Shadow Warning was a constant screech in my ear as it took up more and more of my vision. Shadow: Raven. My breath caught in my throat again, breaking out in a cold sweat, it spoke to me in a disturbingly familiar voice. "Thank you, my Sweet Child."

For but the briefest moment, I thought I saw our goddess standing before me. But with the next blink, she was gone. A seldom-seen identifier popped up in my visor, one we only ever saw when conducting routine maintenance of the rebreathers. Identifier ID: Syn.

"Scout Realm! Respond! What happened? Scout Realm, Respond immediately!" The static was gone, and many voices and comms responses where coming through the relay. Dozens of command operatives attempting connection to my relay.

"Reporting." "What happened, Odeza?" "I don't know"

History

A burial tradition stemming from the Legion of Syn and all their related military activities. This began as the war with the Shadows progressed, as the Legion had to put down Shadow Touched Children with each melancholy strike, they felt that even though there was nothing they could at the time for them, they would be shown the respect they deserved in death. The Faeries we uniquely tied to camaraderie and honor, as they were the most combat-oriented culture out of The Namoux. Syn had been a force of of heat and fire to the universe, so too were her children. In their blood they craved expansion, they craved the feeling of physical movement, they were exceptionally suited to be warriors. Despite the gods never having intended for even a single war to break out between the Children, there were occasions when they needed to step in. Earning them the notoriety they justly deserved. During these conflicts with the Shadow Touched, there was no will to hurt those who had turned. How could one look a brother, a daughter, a mother, or a father in the eyes and cut them down, knowing they were not the same people anymore? They still looked the same though. The Faeries felt no pride in their duty, they along with the rest of the Children did everything they could to no kill the Shadow Touched. However, as all things go in the ides of war, blood must be on the hands of those that wish to survive. To know that the ax the felled the tree, is to be the tree that fell. To this point, even when battles had been lost, even when areas were too dangerous to enter again, the Legion would honor the fallen.

Execution

Any member of The Namoux can do this, there is no restriction. Despite The Quartet ordering the Children to not continue with this practice, as it only caused more suffering on the side of the gods, the Children still did so. If a faerie is found dead, changed or otherwise, a sword is placed in their hands and laid atop their chest. If a Fae is found dead, changed or otherwise, a book is placed in their hands in the same fashion. If a Giant is found dead, changed or otherwise, a hammer is placed in their hands in the same fashion. If a Brownie is found dead, changed or otherwise, any musical instrument is placed in their hands. All dead are to be turned toward the ski and their eyes opened. So that they too, even in death, can witness the beauty of the worlds their gods had made for them and them alone.