The Passion of a Thousand Suns | Aemond Targaryen

Twelve: the loss of justice

KING'S LANDING 

After the incident, they embalmed and wrapped Jin in white cloth.

During the seven days of preparation to transition his soul to the afterlife, Jade sat by his body like a dutiful wife waiting for her husband to return from war. Yet Jin would never return to her.

Jade's heart-wrenching screams still rang loud in Hira's ears. In her nightmares they were ever present, a constant scene playing over and over. Jin's bloodied mouth, bloodied stomach, eyes dark and empty, begging to return home. His limp hand falling to the ground the moment his heart stopped beating.

There was nothing they could do to save him, the wound was too fatal—there hadn't been enough time. Hira wasted it by doing nothing, being useless. She could never forgive herself for not being there for him, for not protecting him. Every part of her blamed herself.

What was worse was that they didn't know who the culprit was.

In the confusion, someone had snuck up and slain Jin, too fast to take notice or raise his sword in defence. Her strong defender taken down by a single blow from a shadow.

Held outside King's Landing, deep within the Kingswood, Hira's household gathered to send Jin's soul to the other realm.

Emica's voice broke the silence, beginning the sermon in Lengii. "The Dark Other has taken a life from us."

As per Lengii tradition, everyone wore white—the colour of mourning and purity. Hira stood at the centre of the gathering, her heart a knot of grief and pain, yet she kept her expression calm, her hands clasped tightly together in front of her. 

Her face was pale, and dark circles had formed under her eyes from sleepless nights, but she would not falter today.

Death was always meant to be a celebration of life in her culture, yet when one's life was cut too short, how could Hira celebrate? Jin deserved more years to live, more days to spend with Jade, more jests to make and wine to drink.

He had wanted to go home.

"Jin was the light that shone when darkness surrounded us. He was our joy and our peace. He was a Sapphire Guard who upheld duty above all. He was a brother, a son, an uncle, a friend and a lover. He was ours and we were his family. Let us not mourn his death but find richness in the life he lived, one filled with laughter and courage, for he taught us how to live a life best."

Jin's body lay on a wooden pyre adorned with white lilies and incense. His face had been carefully prepared, cleaned of the blood and grime that had marred him in his final moments. He looked peaceful now, almost as if he were merely sleeping.

Jade had arranged his body herself, meticulously ensuring that every detail of the funeral rites was respected, as if this final act of care might give her some small measure of peace.

She stood closest to the pyre, her eyes red from days of crying, but now her tears had dried. In her hand, she held a small sapphire token—something Jin had always carried with him, a symbol of protection from their homeland.

"Jin, our friend, we pray your soul passes the tunnels of the Old Ones. That judgement finds you pure and good, and into the arms of our ancestors. Blessed Old Ones, take his soul into your arms and accept his embrace, so that he passes to his ancestors and sits in his rightful place."