The day of Prim's funeral arrived, and a melancholic air lingered over the mourners.
The loud booming of drums by The Iron Lion echoed in the air, setting the somber tone for the procession.
The people of the city lined up, holding torches, their flickering flames illuminating the night like a sea of dancing stars.
Soft, mournful voices filled the air, reciting prayers for the dead.
Thomas stood beside Bea, his arm gently wrapped around her waist, supporting her as they walked side by side.
They were the older siblings of Prim, and thus, they had the responsibility of being at the very front of the procession, leading the mourners.
Bea's body was still recovering from the gunshot wound, her movements a bit shaky and slow. Thomas made sure to keep her steady, his grip firm but gentle.
Her dark dress hugged her figure, while he looked slightly uneasy in the unfamiliar attire.
The other teens in the Right Arm followed behind Thomas and Bea.
Despite the pain of losing Prim, they walked together in unity, their torches casting flickering shadows that danced across their faces.
The flickering flames of the torches cast a soft, ethereal glow across Bea's face, highlighting the sadness and the shadows under eyes.
As they continued walking, The Iron Lion came to the front, Casper, their leader, holding the main torches. Vincent, Jorge, Mary, and Vivian followed behind, carrying the casket of Prim.
The procession walked in a slow, rhythmic pace, the shuffling footsteps synchronized with the beating of the drums.
The people silently followed The Iron Lion, their eyes fixed on the procession carrying Prim's casket. The rhythmic shuffling of their footsteps synchronized with the beating of the drums.
Vincent, Jorge, Mary, and Vivian solemnly held the casket, each of them bearing the weight of their own grief.
As they walked, the flames of the torches danced in the air, casting a flickering light upon the mourners, like flickering stars against a dark sky.
The night deepened, and the torches burned lower, their flames fighting a losing battle against the cold night air.
Thomas walked beside Bea, his arm still wrapped around her waist, supporting her weight. He kept his eyes forward, his gaze fixed on the casket being carried by Vincent, Jorge, Mary, and Vivian.
Bea took in a deep breath, fighting tears back.
The procession continued, the flickering flames of the torches providing a meager comfort against the night.
With each step, the casket of Prim moved further and further away, slowly fading into the darkness.
The procession arrived at a secluded spot on the outskirts of the city.
The area was surrounded by trees and rocks, providing a natural barrier against the outside world.
Moonlight filtered through the leaves, bathing the area in a soft, silvery glow. The air was crisp, a subtle hint of the forest surrounding them.
The grave site was prepared, a deep hole gouged into the earth, waiting to receive Prim's final resting place.
The people lined from the streets, torches in hand, their voices joining in the prayers and singing.
The drums beat solemnly, their sound echoing through the streets. The people chanted as they walked.
The procession came to a stop, the mourners forming a circle around the grave site. The drums quieted, the only sound being the shuffling of feet and the murmurs of the people.
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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐇 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝘇𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿
Fanfictioni know that if i die, my only choice is still defending ★ you shall go west, and face the one who has turned, you shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned, you shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, and you shall fail to...
