Air {Elements of Power 3}

Chapter Nine: Jasmine

The funeral took place a few days later. It was held in the main Arcan temple and Caleb took the service. All of the normal church goers were there, as well as every Arcan citizen who could make it to the capital. For once, I was pleased that the temple didn't have walls, as it meant that people could watch from outside, crowding down the hill.

The number of spectators present showed just how much Zephyrus had been loved and respected as a King. How much he would be missed, as well.

Brae was in the front row in all his ceremonial finery. His mother was beside him, dressed in a white mourning suit; white was the colour of Arcan grief; we all returned to the air.

I was sitting beside the Arcan Protectors, a few rows back. This was a change of status-I usually sat with Noni, back with all of the other, ordinary citizens. But, despite my powers not being Arcan, I was now considered a Protector of the Realm. I think it was Grace's idea. She had remained incredibly strong since her husband's death. But then she needed to be, for Brae.

He was coping as well as could be expected. He was ticking all the boxes and fulfilling all of his duties. But he was grieving deeply. His eyes were rimmed with purple circles, from lack of sleep. The night before, I had found him wandering through the palace gardens in the early hours of the morning. I had been too nervous about the following day to sleep and found the palace uncomfortable. I would much prefer to be back in my own room, snuggled under layers of blankets with Caleb and Noni sleeping below. But Grace and Brae agreed that the Protectors should all stay close while Tristan and Roxy were in the palace. Brae couldn't be left at risk, not with two other Realms' Protectors in residence. I had seen little of Devon and Cameron lately-they had been taking it in turns to guard outside of Roxy's door. I had so far been spared this task, but had been put on 'Tristan watch' instead.

Tristan was here today. He was sitting up in second row, behind Brae, as a mark of respect for his office. I could see Caleb's eyes rest on him and wince with displeasure as he began; Caleb didn't like heathens in his temple.

"Arcans," Caleb began somewhat pointedly. "We have gathered together this morning to celebrate the life of a most distinguished King, a man who brought happiness, security and peace to every single Arcan living in the Realm. He will be sorely missed, by those who knew him best, as well as by the Realm as a whole. He was a loving father and husband, a caring friend and a conscientious ruler."

Caleb paused here, to look at the large, silver dish that contained the ashes of his dearest friend. Everyone in the Arcan Realm was cremated as soon as possible after their death, so that their ashes could then be mixed with the air, returning them to the god.

"Now, some of those closest to him would like to share their fondest memories and stories with you." There were three of them, carefully selected with the gravitas of the occasion in mind: a member of the King's private guard, one of the elder Protectors who was now too old for public duty and a member of the Arcan Elders-the elite families who sat on the King's council. Brae and his mother would not be speaking here, in public. But we were going to have a private eulogy for him this evening at sundown, where they would share a few words. The stories were all polite, positive tales showing the King's kindness and generosity. However it didn't take me long to pick up a common theme running through them: peace. Each tale emphasised a point in time where the King had chosen pacifism instead of heated or violent retaliation. The purpose was clear; someone-Brae, Grace or even Caleb-was intent on showing Tristan that violence was not the Arcan way. We believed in living peacefully, in harmony.

I watched Tristan closely, but his appearance of intense sympathy never faltered. Either the tales of Sephan intelligence (or lack thereof) were true and he didn't realise that he was being sent a message, or he had a diplomatic poker face to rival even Brae's.

He had adopted Arcan dress for the occasion, wearing a suit of pure white which made his hair look like a small tuft of grass on top of a snow-capped mountain.

The only difference that mourning dress had to usual Arcan attire was that it didn't sparkle or gleam like usual. Everything had to be matt and simple.

I was wearing an ankle-length, flowing skirt with a white top and blazer-the warmest all-white outfit I could find. Even my sandals had white straps and soles.

By the time the speeches had finished, I had completely tuned out. I had spent at least the last five minutes watching Brae instead. My chest constricted if his shoulders slumped; my eyes grew warm if he tilted his head down, but I swelled with pride if he held it high, watching the speakers and nodding as he agreed. At one point, when one of the Elders spoke of Zephyrus' commitment to his family, I saw Grace take Brae's hand in hers and squeeze it. How I wanted to be up there with him. But that would have been inappropriate. I was a Protector. At best, I could call myself Brae's girlfriend. But in such a public setting, my place was definitely not at his side.

My stomach twisted. I had been wondering recently... Because of my unique parentage, could my place ever be at his side? I wasn't sure the leader of the Arcan Realm could have a public relationship with a hybrid, let alone consider getting married to one. Doing so would give someone who was half Helian - half Brizan power and responsibility within the Arcan Realm. The Arcans were a very tolerant people-it was one of the things I had always liked best about the Realm as I grew up. But that by no means meant that they would accept me-or anyone like me-whether they had grown up in the Arcan Realm or not.

Now that the speeches had been delivered it was time for Brae's role in the ceremony. At a nod from Caleb, he got to his feet and climbed to the altar. He stood in front of the silver bowl containing his father's ashes, his back to the congregation. No one was standing in front of the temple; it was crucial for the final send-off that it was kept clear. Brae's head was bowed in prayer, but his shoulders stayed firm, strong. "Zephyrus Argestes," he called out, his voice as clear as the sky above us. "The greatest King who ever lived," he added softly.

Slowly, he lifted his hands from his sides, palms up. Everyone felt the shift in the air and a few people fidgeted uncomfortably. As the breeze in the room picked up, the ashes were lifted from the bowl and drifted out of the front of the temple, up into the sky.

Thus were the King's ashes returned to the Air god. I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks, leaving salty trails across my lips, before I even realised that I was crying. The world around me became a blurry mess as the ashes disappeared into the air.

Most ordinary Arcans would just have their ashes scattered, or cast from a cliff on a windy day. Protectors were only used for citizens of great importance and it was particularly poignant that Brae was able to perform his father's send-off.

Once I had blinked the remaining tears from my eyes, I could see Grace sat forwards in the front row. Devon and Caleb had tensed beside me-neither were on guard duty for the funeral. All three had been ready to step in had Brae been unable to fulfil his role, to surreptitiously stir the wind to help him, without him losing face. But Brae hadn't needed help, I thought with a surge of pride. He had been able to give his father the send-off he deserved, and I knew that he would have been immensely proud of him too.

{Poor Brae! What did you think of this chapter? Please vote/comment to let me know your thoughts.}