His whole body shook as he felt fire emerge from somewhere deep within. No amount of tears would heal the open wound, would restore his life. He could be reborn a dozen times, but he would never forget their time together. Time was a better healer than any, it was the only recovery in this case.
Eventually life would go on, people would forget, but not him. He promised himself. He refused. His freind could find life in him. If only it was more literal. If only he could bring him back. He would most definatly have encouraging words right now. But, everyone seemed to have died with him. No one seemed to be willing to step put and fight the evil that was reveling in this defeat. Good had fallen to Evil.
It had begun, with the innocent had been, The once long lasting had perished. The soild foundation everyone looked to for hopes of salvation, had been was no hope, no happiness, no life, just an empty chair and and a void in his heart as well as everyone around.
He felt the flame over take him as his mourning became was being reborn, remembering the pain once more, and as he did He cried the most powerful tear of pure love, more powerful than any potion, or baskilisk fang. Magic only found in story books, but this fairy tail, was not over. In fact, it had just begun.
Fawkes took one final breath before he exploded, in the chaos the tear fell to the ground, wasted. Lost forever, just like Dumbledore.