Kyrenya stood silently in the city, leaned back against a wall in a dark corner, peering out at the citizens of Ironforge. The body of her "would be" Husband, had already been prepared for the ceremony, and now it was time to wait. Synithalon strode up to her in her full armor, ignoring the passing glares from all around her. She had a pass to step into the city, as the highest ranking Death Knight currently not stationed in Northrend. Some silence passed between them before Synithalon chose to break it.

"How're you holding up?" she questioned, her forboding silver eyes biting into the rogue. Kyrian shook her head, her voice weak.

"If I think about it too much, I'll tear myself apart…" Synithalon merely nodded. She had been in this spot before, mourning the death of a dear loved one, and doing all she could to keep from breaking down.

Horns resounded throughout the expansive caverns of Ironforge, and all turned their heads towards Tinker Town. Synithalon sighed. "Look's like the King's here."

Kyrian nodded, pushing herself off from the wall and striding side by side with Syn through Ironforge. King Varian Wrynn himself had come to attend the funeral, as it was, one of his most valuable officers was being buried. Adorned in his deep cobalt armor, with a long fur cloak billowing behind him and a team of twelve royal guards, he looked every bit the glorious ruler everyone knew him to be.

Synithalon raised an eyebrow at Kyrian's somewhat amazed face. "Oh it's just fanfare, don't get too excited." Kyrian blinked at Syn, somewhat offended. "That's my King you're talking about."

Synithalon coughed at a laugh. "Yeah, it is. And?"

By this time, the King had already spotted them and was striding towards them.

"Lieutenant-Commander Synithalon."He stated, an oddly familiar expression on his face. Synithalon didn't bow, or salute, chuckling. "King Varian."

The King made a quick gesture, and his guards, as well as most of the crowd dispersed.

"What're you doing here Syn?" he asked, cocking his head at her. Synithalon nodded to the still, silent Kyrian.

"Here to keep young Miss Skylar standing." She stated simply, her voice grim. Varian nodded, frowning. He placed a hand on Kyrian's shoulder, squeezing it gently and looking her in the eyes.

"I'm sorry for your loss. He was a great man." Kyrian seemed bewildered at the contact, her body stiffening. She nodded, bowing her head. "Thank you, My King."

Synithalon tilted her head towards the amassing crowd. "Shall we go?"

The King and Kyrian both nodded, following her through the streets. Varian took his place amongst his guards and the rest of the humans attending, while Kyrian and Synithalon both stood directly in front of the burial site. Kyrian could feel the empty hole in her chest that was now her heart, as she stared down at the pale body of her lover, and yet she could not weep. She knew the blade strapped to her hip was why. She felt both sick and comforted that the soul of her beloved was contained in a steel blade at her side, as she turned to face the amassed crowd attending the funeral. She swallowed her grief, clearing her throat.

"Stephen Murphy Obrien…a true Leader…a Father…a Loving Husband. These are just a few of the many things this great man was. He was my Commander, my teacher, and my heart. I, as a single person, and all of us, as the Alliance, have lost a priceless treasure today. We must grieve…and pay our respects, but also must celebrate, for despite our loss, his soul has been freed." Kyrian bowed her head, taking in a shallow breath, her eyes watering.

"I'm going to say a farewell…if any of you know this old ballad…I would ask you please join me."

Synithalon put a supportive hand on her shoulder, and they both took in deep breaths, and began to sing…

(Trovommi Amor-Mediaeval Baebes)

Those who knew the song contributed their voices, and those who did not bowed their heads, and closed their eyes in respect, the King included. Some prayed, many wept, and as the song progressed, the voices grew louder, higher pitched voices of women and children, as well as the deeper voices of men, echoing throughout the caverns of Ironforge. Many of the voices slowly faded away as the song came to it's end, until finally, all went silent. Kyrian noticed a few tears had escaped, flowing down her pale cheeks. She wiped them away, saying a prayer for her beloved, and knelt. She took the medallion of Ironforge she had kept for a keepsake, and kissed it, before placing it on her lover's cold chest.

With that, she stood, taking her place beside the crowd. Many dwarves and humans alike paid their respects, while a dwarven priest read off the Light's Last Rites.

"…now return to the Stone, from which you were birthed, and watch through eternity. Leave if you must…stay if you will. Farewell." The priest muttered, closing his book and nodding to Kyrian.

And just like that, the funeral was over. If not for the ceremony, there would be know way of knowing her beloved's body was even there except for the gold plaque engraved with his name in Dwarven.

Kyrian wished all she had said were true…that his soul was now free. But this was not the case, as she stepped up to the grave and placed her hand against the plaque.

"I am so sorry…If I had been faster…better. I could've saved you. Please forgive me…I love you." She spoke to none but herself. The blade at her side hummed slightly before going silent. Synithalon let out a deep breath, touching the woman's shoulder.

"C'mon. It's only so long that we can stay here. We have much to do."

Kyrian peered at the grave for a second longer, before turning on her heel and following Synithalon towards their wyverns. She strode proudly out of the city, her heart spurred by a new resolve: To find her beloved's son, and to have Fireshade's head roasted on a spit…