a brief excerpt..
Sometimes you have to take the bull by the horns thought Krish. He
knew the formal, old ways would soothe everyone with the familiar
rituals. Those old ways were fading in the new dawn, but people straddling the two worlds were more often then not, thankful for
the Way of the Grove.
As a student long ago, he had learned the power of words and ritual. As a teacher in the middle years he had often spoke of the power of the old ways. After the fall of darkness, he believed and needed that power to keep him to the path, now more then ever.
The old friends crowded into the main room of the house, feeling uncomfortable and unsure. Brave warriors of the last war they may be, but in the house of their fallen friend, they were like cattle in the pen. Larissa made everyone welcome, seating everyone at the big table filled with food and wine. She nodded at Krish to start.
'Thank you for letting us into your home Larissa,' said Krish raising a mug of wine, 'To Carnac.'
The friends touched mugs, poured a couple drops to the floor, and drained the wine. The formality of the beginning of the Vigil behind them, Sam and Larissa started passing dishes to everyone, urging them to eat. None of them had the stomach for food, but they all filled plates and ate anyway, as part of the ritual they knew so well.
It was a ritual they did not always have the honor of performing for their friends, so many having died in the heat of battle and no proper way to send them to the next world. More often then not, it was a funeral pyre and a few words. For most of them, that would have been easier.