act41side

Is this how your folks hold funerals, Moran?

We didn't have all these rites and ceremonies. All we did was keep watch through the night. No clue what this 'fire-returning' thing is either.

Guess we just follow their instructions.

Have you ever been part of a ceremony like this, Reed?

(Shakes head)

I see...

You mean...

Loughshinny has found the wakemen. The hero's funeral has begun.

'I stepped into the dark woods one morn, calling to the mists of hoar; I trod upon the road, heading out to war'... Do you know this song?

You already know the answer.

I led the young into battle with it more than a few times.

Who is it? Who's singing?

Why is it that I still hear that song here at the site of the old capital, even after escaping the Dark Woods?

Or am I still stuck in the woods?!

No... no, the sound is coming from the furnace at the center of the ruins.

Such a beautiful tune...

No pipes a-singing, nor battle drums a-roar...

Only the bells behind me... through dew and fog their rings do soar...

I...

I should go back...

Now I see... what I truly want...

Besides... do I really deserve... to escape Na Saoirsí?

Here, Emma, today's bread.

Thanks for sharing your food in times like these.

You shared with me before. Just returning the favor.

But... why do you keep staring at the bread in my hand like that?

(Mutters) Control yourself... control yourself...

(Mutters) She's Emma... the one who shared bread with you... you must help her... you must—

(Deep breath) I'm fine, Emma.

I-I just meant to say, you've been bedridden for so long. There'll be tough times ahead.

'No pipes a-singing, nor battle drums a-roar'...

Why are you singing that?

Someone's singing... in the distance...

Friends of the departed, please present your eulogy before the fire-returning ceremony begins.

Reed?

I... I have a eulogy here, written by Nemos. May I read it?

Of course. Go ahead.

'Dear Culann...'

A letter?

'Culann, perhaps it won't be long before I join you...'

Culann, perhaps it won't be long before I join you—before I become a slave of the purple flame, before I turn to ash.

Perhaps there won't be anyone to free me from an afterlife of eternal torment.

But I've never forgotten what you said to me.

You said you wanted to be a hero. You asked me to let you become one.

You said Na Saoirsí needed a hero for the postwar days, one who belonged only to us. Neither Dublinn nor soldier.

You said that nearly everyone in the city had lost something important in the war, be it a partner, a child, or a future.

Without a hero, an exemplar to understand them and fight for their rights, one who would also set them right should they go astray...

Without that, they wouldn't have anything to hold onto when the war ends, when they have no one left to hate.

I agreed and assented to your request.

You took Theo in, and helped the people who'd lost their livelihoods.

You thought everything was on the right path, and so you proposed the statue. You became fully immersed and took on a great burden.

By the time you realized... it was too late.

Now, it is my turn to carry this burden, one too heavy for any single person to bear.

'...Now, it is my turn to carry this burden, one too heavy for any single person to bear.'

'Farewell, Culann. Slán leat. Or should I say, Slán go fóill.'

'May we meet again...'

'in the warm flames.'

As she finishes, a flame is thrown into the kindling surrounding the coffin, igniting the firewood.

The crowd gathers around the bonfire, following the instructions of the wakemen.

Witness that the departed has found peace in flames. He shall no longer wander the mortal realm.

Place your candle as close to the fire as possible, or throw it in directly. Return the fire to the departed.

If you have anything to say to the departed, say it aloud to the flame. Be it praise or reproach, they are the memories that will console the departed at journey's end.

Once you have returned the fire, please remain to keep watch over his soul, until the fire has gone out.

Let us begin.

Slán leat. May you find rest, stranger—

deceiver and hero.

Moran bends down and places her candle by the fire. The licking flames swallow it in an instant, almost burning her hand.

Do you want to come closer to the fire, Reed?

If there's anyone here who doesn't deserve to pay respects to Culann, it would be me.

You couldn't have saved him.

Moran?

There was no place for him in the Red Dragon's Lair from the moment he made the choice to truly become a hero.

You should return the fire to him.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Let the dead rest with our memories, as life goes on.

Return the fire...

Let the dead rest with our memories... as life goes on?

While Loughshinny is lost in thought, the others continue to return their fire and then sit down some distance from the bonfire, until she is the only one left with a candle in her hand.

She walks forward in silence, and tosses the candle into the blazing bonfire.

The dead are gone.

All their ambition, obsession, realization and desperation turn to fading smoke and silent ash in the flames.