.ave atque vale.
hail and farewell
The night is still, dusted with a thousand sparks of pale silver starlight. In the shadows under the trees, the dark waits, but there is no longer any fear in its shadows. They promise only peace.
In one clearing, far from anything else, the last remains of a life both beautiful and terrible are given gently to the flames. Golden sparks rise to meet the silver, and the heavens are filled with a chorus of glittering embers.
The night deepens, and now the silence is broken by the noise of celebration, by hundreds of joyful voices and the sound of light exploding into the darkness and turning it to glory.
But in the clearing, all is silent. Even sound knows the sanctity of this place—knows that silence can be holy. Some truths are too deep for words, and some joys are too deep even for tears.
And the sparks rise, reflected in two pairs of blue eyes, broken but redeemed.