Her hands wrap around the glaive's shaft, tears rolling down her cheeks. His request doesn't help them much, but it's something she can't refuse. Daughter of Brother Earth, Prophet of the End, Tender to the Dead. There's no escaping what she is in some ways, but she can still twist it to try to help, to soothe him rather than put fear into his mind like she's done for others tonight.
Too many others.
Mercy takes a few deep breaths and closes her eyes to try to center herself, even just a little. When she can take a breath without it hitching to a gasp, she finally speaks. "Aye. I can help with that, brother." Another moment. "Death's an ending, but it ain't the close of any story. We have many endings in our lives. The end of childhood, the end of loves, the end of hates, the end of a harvest, the end of winter. All things end, but death ain't an enemy. It ain't something you should be scared of."
It gets a little easier, her voice a little steadier, as she presses on, finds the words Papa and Mama and Granny and Colm and Ida had all spoken before her. Every Sradan who lived to understand words. "One day you'll die, but it's never the ultimate end. You live on in every person you've touched, in every insect or plant you nourish, in every person who admires the flowers or eats the grain that springs forth. You lived and that mattered. And you'll die and that matters, too.
"Only thing that don't matter is where you go after all's said and done. To a peaceful field with the Brother, to the red river of the Bloody Banner, to the Dawnfather's county, to whatever resting place is meant for you, you'll have mattered here. And you'll walk on past this, your soul shining bright as the noonday sun. You're ended the story of your life. There's so many pages left to fill for your death, both for you and the folk who remember who you are."
no subject
Too many others.
Mercy takes a few deep breaths and closes her eyes to try to center herself, even just a little. When she can take a breath without it hitching to a gasp, she finally speaks. "Aye. I can help with that, brother." Another moment. "Death's an ending, but it ain't the close of any story. We have many endings in our lives. The end of childhood, the end of loves, the end of hates, the end of a harvest, the end of winter. All things end, but death ain't an enemy. It ain't something you should be scared of."
It gets a little easier, her voice a little steadier, as she presses on, finds the words Papa and Mama and Granny and Colm and Ida had all spoken before her. Every Sradan who lived to understand words. "One day you'll die, but it's never the ultimate end. You live on in every person you've touched, in every insect or plant you nourish, in every person who admires the flowers or eats the grain that springs forth. You lived and that mattered. And you'll die and that matters, too.
"Only thing that don't matter is where you go after all's said and done. To a peaceful field with the Brother, to the red river of the Bloody Banner, to the Dawnfather's county, to whatever resting place is meant for you, you'll have mattered here. And you'll walk on past this, your soul shining bright as the noonday sun. You're ended the story of your life. There's so many pages left to fill for your death, both for you and the folk who remember who you are."