The morning was solemn, shrouded in a quiet mist that clung to the ground like a veil. The usually vibrant courtyard of the Postknight Academy was now a place of mourning. A makeshift pyre stood at its center, surrounded by rows of solemn figures dressed in muted colors.
Tedric's funeral was a simple yet dignified ceremony, reflecting the man himself. His shield rested atop the pyre, polished to a shine, while his broken sword—symbolizing his final battle—was carefully placed beside him.
In the crowd, Almond stood with the help of Vaidya and Tiara. His arm was bound in a sling, his face pale from injuries and exhaustion, but he refused to stay in the infirmary. Commander Cassandra, known for her stoic demeanor, stood nearby, her jaw clenched and her hands folded tightly behind her back. Even she couldn't hide the sorrow etched in her eyes.
Elizabeth stood at the forefront, her usual strength tempered by grief. She held a medallion—the one Tedric had always worn—in her trembling hands. It was no longer hers to keep. She glanced back at Solis, who stood rigid among the younger Postknights, his gaze fixed on the pyre.
The priest of Mailie stepped forward to deliver the eulogy, his voice laden with sorrow. "Today, we gather to honor Tedric—a man who embodied the spirit of the Postknights. He was a protector, a mentor, and above all, a selfless soul. He gave his life so that others might live. His sacrifice will not be forgotten."
---
As the priest's words resonated through the courtyard, everyone reflected on what Tedric meant to them.
Ada stood with her arms crossed, her head bowed. The scars from the battle were still fresh, but the pain of losing Tedric cut even deeper.
"I trained to be strong, to be brave," she thought bitterly. "But I wasn't strong enough when it mattered most."
She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. "You believed in us, Tedric. You believed in me. I swear I won't let that faith go to waste."
---
Vaidya adjusted his satchel, his usually sharp mind clouded with guilt. Tedric had always been the one to guide them, to push them to be better. Now that weight felt crushing.
"You always knew what to do," he thought, his gaze fixed on the shield atop the pyre. "But now it's on us to figure it out."
He glanced at Solis, who stood motionless like a statue. "We have to be better, for you and for Solis. Tedric, I'll make sure your trust wasn't misplaced."
---
Elizabeth's fingers trembled as they brushed the medallion. Tedric had been her partner, her other half, and now he was gone. Her mind flashed back to his broken, lifeless body, and she had to fight the urge to scream.
"You idiot," she thought, her lips trembling. "You always had to be the hero."
But deep down, she knew why he had done it. It was who he was—selfless to a fault. A part of her admired him for it, even as her heart ached.
"This medallion is yours now, Solis," she thought, glancing at the boy who had fought so fiercely. "Tedric believed in you. And I will, too."
---
The ceremony concluded as the pyre was lit. The flames rose high, consuming Tedric's body and belongings. The crowd watched in silence, the crackling fire the only sound in the stillness.
---
The Graveyard
The graveyard behind the Academy was shaded by ancient trees, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. Tedric's grave was marked with a simple stone, engraved with his name and the Postknight insignia.
Elizabeth stood before the grave, the medallion in her hand. Commander Cassandra approached silently, placing a firm hand on Elizabeth's shoulder.
"He was one of the best," Cassandra said quietly, her voice betraying the faintest hint of emotion. "We'll ensure his sacrifice is remembered."
Elizabeth nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the grave.
Solis approached moments later, his steps hesitant. The young Postknight looked at Cassandra, who gave him a solemn nod before stepping back to give him space.
Elizabeth turned to him, her eyes softening. She held out the medallion. "This belonged to Tedric. He would've wanted you to have it."
Solis froze, his eyes widening. "I… I can't take this. It's his."
Elizabeth shook her head, stepping closer and pressing the medallion into his hand. "And now it's yours. He believed in you, Solis. Enough to entrust you with his final moments. Carry this, and carry his memory."
Solis stared at the medallion, his hand trembling. He knelt before the grave, clutching it tightly. "I'll do my best," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'll make him proud."
Elizabeth watched him for a moment before kneeling beside him. "You already have," she said softly. "But don't do it alone. Lean on us. Lean on me."
Solis looked at her, tears streaming down his face. "Thank you," he whispered.
They knelt together in silence, the weight of their grief shared but no less heavy.
---
As the sun set, the graveyard slowly emptied. Cassandra and the others left, offering their condolences before departing. Only Solis and Elizabeth remained, the medallion catching the last rays of light.
"We'll carry on," Elizabeth said, her voice steady. "For Tedric. For all of us."
Solis nodded, standing and slipping the medallion around his neck. He looked at the grave one last time, a fire igniting in his eyes. "We'll make him proud."
With that, they turned and walked away, the weight of their loss driving them forward rather than holding them back.