May they return to dust

"The souls that have fallen..." came the low resonance of Vlad's voice. "May they find peace in another Aeon." Vlad dropped to his knees in front of the laid-out bodies of the people who had fought against the monsters, Jaxon among them. 

As he takes the torch from the man beside him, the flames leap hungrily to life, consuming the bodies and releasing their souls into the smoky air. The fire crackles, a harsh sound to the stillness around them, reducing flesh to ash. 

Heads bow low, their expressions carved in solemn grief, shadows of the flames flickering across weary faces. 

"May they return to dust," a woman murmurs, her voice steady yet soft. The others follow her lead, the chant rising like a mournful prayer carried by the wind. 

Legion stands apart, a silent witness to their grief. His eyes are distant as he switches his gaze from his siblings to the people a muffled whispers escaping his lips. "May they return to dust."