†Discord's Hell†...Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
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Date Posted: 14:01:25 08/07/01 Tue
Author: Raphael
Subject: Dantor's rites...

~gently, ever-so-gently the man lays Dantor down, his facade of light humor wavering at the sight of an innocent's death. true, he may be arrogant at times, even disdainful, but a needless death touches even his heart of stone. the fae rocks back on his heels, kneeling beside the dead man, his brow furrowing as he tries to think of how to go about giving honor to the dead. a simple burial, perhaps? no...that would not suit this Dantor, or Discord, for that matter, for wouldn't she loathe a corpse buried in her lands? his countenance relaxes as a thought darts across his mind; a funeral pyre, and then a burial at sea. he nods, studying Dantor's features carved in death. leaning forward, he wraps slender digits about the dagger still embedded in his chest, and, with one powerful tug, the blade is in his hands, shining crimson with the now-cold blood. sighing, he lays the dagger down upon a bed of moss. getting to his feet, he moves about the forest for many hours, gathering wood for the funeral bed which will burn upon nightfall in Dantor's honor. stick by stick, log by log, he takes all the wood he will need to a clearing in plain view of Lina's side of the barrier, as if in disdain for her. he builds the pyre up, and then lays the body gently upon it, his hands stained crimson with Dantor's cold blood. kneeling down, he sets light to the kindling around the base of the death monument, watching the fire grow into a bright blaze all about the body before stepping away. Dantor's blade is held unclean in his hands, as he simply stands, watching the body burn for a few minutes until the pyre collapses in on itself, sending up a shower of sparks as if 'tis the man's spirit flying for the heavens to dwell amongst the stars which are already coming out. quietly, solemnly, Raphael speaks, amber eyes glinting with the light of the fire both within and without~

"Such is the death of Dantor...innocent fallen by his own blade. Though he is dead, he is not forgotten...death shall be paid with death, his shall be avenged."

~bowing his head, a few rare tears fall from his closed eyes and make trails down his pale visage, glittering like diamonds as they fall to the ground beneath him. his grip tightens on both the handle and blade of the dagger, causing his palm to be laid open to the bone by the still-sharp edge. he opens his eyes, smiling faintly at the welling up and shedding of his blood, crimson stream falling upon the ground. lifting his head, he murmurs quietly, eyes trained on the fiery blaze which encompasses Dantor in its heated embrace~

"And so it has begun...the battle of tears and blood. One shall win, and one shall lose, yet sorrow shall abound on either side just as death."

~and so stands Raphael, silent once more, lone payer of respects to the recently departed~

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