The Night Rider

Chapter 51 - Torecaster

Hawkins had never participated in a funeral before.

It was a strange word to use. Funeral. There was nothing fun about it but perhaps, the fun was the decision to remain light hearted despite all that. Gidget had clearly taken those words to heart, his jovial Craft proving far more useful than any plot of scuffed dirt he could come up with.

They worked mostly in silence, the Tinker Mole quietly providing him with stories of the other races and how they cared for their dead. Hawkins struggled to grasp a lot of the concepts, his overactive imagination being bogged down by exhaustion and reminders of his own failures. Not even discussions of other countries he’d never been to could break him out of his stupor.

There had been a small gesture for both Colossus and his father but it was barely a courtesy. Hack had managed to gather as much of their ashes as he could but without the Ashes of the Fallen it wasn’t important to the Undercity and was soon stolen and vandalised for money. Ashes cost a lot even without the recognition of identity so it was no wonder they had been heartily sought after for the Bolthole’s black market. After all, the Mediators were more than enough to handle any disputes between Death Dealer gangs.

“I think it’s time to begin.”

The closed off area had now been divided into a suitable section to act as a buffer for anyone participating in this makeshift memorial. The others still sat idly by, aware but exhausted as Hack gave no indication he was past their earlier dispute and Hawkins didn’t have the heart to tell him. The Mediator watched curiously as Gidget’s Miner Craft mirrored his uncle’s, burrowing deep with his claws to build various rock formations that reminded Hawkins of the Caldorian plants Hack had used earlier.

But despite the similarities with Gizmo, his Craft retained a fluidity and grace that the older Tinker Mole lacked as the gravel induced ground was moulded into something far more pliable. A single gravestone much like the ones Hack had conjured up all those years ago sprouted from the earth like a Solaris plant in full bloom. With one final look towards the resting Sand Wraith, Hawkins stood beside Gidget and closed his eyes in prayer.

"Fatekeeper. Watch over our brethren from beyond the reach of your sight. Although he may not be of kin, he is worthy of your forgiveness even if this place may not have been so kind."

The Tinker Mole's words drifted along at an even pace, Hawkins breathing matching the slow, methodical rhythm of Gidgets prayers. His heartbeat was barely noticeable over the shifting earth, his Trait humming beneath the surface of his consciousness.

Gidget began to falter, his mind going blank for the next part of his services but Hawkins was too lost in thought. It was like a candle flickering against a tornado and struggling to stay alight. But strangely, his fatigue began to lessen.

"Let your gaze guide him away from his last moments and towards those who do not forget him. May Sleek be remembered for who he was not who he was forced into being."

The familiar baritone woke the Mediator from his trance, startled a little by Hack's eerily silent arrival and sudden interruption. The Sand Wraith stood solitary as a protective force to help guide the Tinker Mole to where he misplaced and keep the flow of the prayer until Gidget got his confidence back.

"I, Gidget of the Labyrinth below, recognises the passing of Traited Sleek as an honorary Crafter of the Earth. Here a Miner rests. Let him remain as such."

The final line of the prayer ricocheted across the clearing, ringing and rebounding in his brain like a pounding drumbeat. It was familiar yet strange but the power in that last phrase was unmistakable. It came from necromancy.

Almost like a Lockbind, it felt tied to the very being of the earth like an unspoken promise. Hidden from plain sight but still rooted within the many cultures within this realm. If Gidget's prayer was anything to go by, Craft itself had been influenced by the very thing hundreds had tried to stamp out.