The Rite done, Gwen stays silent a few more moments. She passes a hand through her hair, trying to rouse what little energy she has left.
"Thank you," she says to the wolves who apologized with her. Then, with a sudden shake of her head to clear her throughts, "Last order of business : Bury the dead. Then we go home." She isn't in any state to perform even more rituals today, but the dead had already waited 6 hours. And after that, rest. Rest, knowing the entire hisil was safe.
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The funeral will have to occur some other time.
As dawn rises on the Forsaken, Helios glares down at them, while Luna retreats. They have restored the world, but it seems not to care for their victory. They are still cursed, still hated. Every victory ends the same: Another death, another series of failures, and the strength of will to turn dust into diamonds. They may not be pretty, they may not be what anyone else wants. But to the Forsaken, victory is theirs today, even as it is tempered with loss.
End Arc
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