Death

It was already dusk.

Snow gently drifted down from the darkening sky.

Just outside the camp, a huge pillar of fire could be seen rising up. Firewood stacked on each other as big as a house was burning brightly. 

Hundreds of warriors were standing patiently around it in total silence.

The red and orange-coloured flames danced in the air, casting shadows of the warriors onto the ground.

In their hearts, they were chanting prayers while gazing at the gigantic funeral pyre.

More than a hundred warriors lost their lives in the battle with the demons. 

Today, they were here to send them off.

Death was an everyday reality to the warrior tribes of Vankara. And yet, they were not in the least ready to bear with the pain of parting. 

Suppressing their sadness, the warriors gazed at the funeral pyre, vowing to take revenge against the demons.