#not only i'm dyslexic and english is my second language it's also 5am

[youkidding-me]

expanding on my previous post about orym witnessing cyrus's funeral

the silken squall burn their deceased over open bodies of water or forests, so their spirits can keep travelling after their bodies are gone

because of this, they have to move the city to the closest body of water/forest

the loved ones or volunteering magic users take turns watching over the body and keeping it cold. it's also a way for the deceased to not be left alone, assuring them their community is with them until the end

during the few days of travel, the immediate family will be showered with love, provided with food and having their house cleaned by their neighbours/friends/distant family. this is to give them time to mour and to prepare the cremation ceremony

dorian's house is the biggest tent in the city, made of probably a few dozen tents connected between each other and almost as tall as a two-story building

everyone lives in portable homes but it's colorful and organized. the tents have creative patterns either weaved, embroidered or painted on them. the stone roads make mosaics of air genasi motifs

the wyvernwind home is the only one covered with a huge linen roofing, though the normal colorful tent peaks underneath it

the entire wyvernwind is dressed in linen. not entirely, though, just their jewelry. dorian is always impeccably dressed, but his rings, earrings, boots, belt and shoulder piece has linen sewn around it. his father and mother are the same

dorian is almost always busy watching cyrus's body, recepting other air genasi that wish to bring food to the wyvernwinds, hand-making the wooden boat that will burn with cyrus in a few days

orym spends a lot of time with goyan enlil-wyvernwind, dorian's mom, since zeru wyvernwind seems to have assumed most of the work on land

(orym suspects the man is avoiding his grieving home's emotional needs like the plague)

they talk a lot about dorian - his childhood, his adventures outside that city, his music, his fight - but she also seems interested about orym

more than once orym thinks if she actually wants to know about his life with the air ashari and how much it's her common diplomatic gait

"the linen?" she answers orym. it took him three days to build courage to ask. "have you noticed how our skin looks against the sky?"

goyan was the slightest darker than dorian, though her hair was a lighter blue. the resemblance to her son was undeniable, even if her eyes were green like cyrus's

"you look like the sky on a clear day"

"every day is clear up here" she said with a smile. "under all this linen, against the blue, what do we look like?"

"clouds" orym answered, and she nodded. "we look like clouds. it's an old tradition that says that, if we cover our loved one in linen, we'll not be saying goodbye to a loved one, but to a cloud passing by."

she managed to say the entire thing with posture, but drops everything she's holding and covers her mouth, breathing hard. "oh no, my baby! my baby, my baby, my baby..."

and orym comforts her, knowing too well what she's feeling

orym can't help to watch cyrus, but he's everywhere else: his hands bleed after cutting all the wood for the boat, he seems to be the only reason dorian remembers to eat and drink water, and he loses his sleep to hold his insomniac lover

"i'm such a fucking failure. i suck, i suck so much. i can't do this, orym, i can't fucking do this" dorian growls against his chest

"i'm right here, my love. we'll do this together. you're doing incredibly, i'm so proud of you."

"it should be him in my place. i was never meant to be here, this not my place"

orym swallows the vision of unconscious dorian in his arms under the radiant gaze of predathos. he wants to smack dorian for saying nonsense, but he knows that pain too well. "not a lot of people can say they were so loved until the very end. in times of chaos, you are giving cyrus the treatment of a prince."

"i barely feel like myself most of the time. i can't remember the days."

and orym holds him, because he knows how it feels

zeru comes back the morning of the ceremony, the sixth day of orym's stay. his skin is ashy and his light blue eyes have sunk into his skull

goyan is keeping him company, touching his arm, his face, his back - and he leans into the touch every time with fail

they have a family meal and zeru avoids dorian's gaze at all costs. orym doesn't know if dorian noticed, because his gaze is equally focused on the table

by the end of the day, the city is reunited, with the wyvernwinds ahead, by the edge of the silken squall. beneath them, the ocean glistens dark blue and purple

cyrus's boat is perfectly tailored for his size, filled with a few of his belongings and his body fully protected by linen. before sending it away, an old genasi lady cuts off the linen on the wyvernwinds clothes and puts the fabric in the boat as well

cyrus floats away, though always closest to dorian than anyone else in the world

dorian whistles a tune as a guard raises a flaming arrow, that flies when the tune ends

fire silently burns the boat into dust as the dozens of genasi watched in complete silence. the only heir of the silken squall holds himself up, though his fingers squeeze orym's painfully

the first time dorian and zeru look at each other is when the last pieces of brumestone fall and there's nothing else to watch. father and son look nothing alike, orym notices - zeru's angular jaw and broad built is an almost ghostly replica of cyrus. dorian's dimples and loose waves resemble his mother a lot more

they don't say a word. dorian's tears are loud and choked, cutting the night air like a knife to the gut. zeru's tears are ragged and tired, ringing with his deep voice, like the land cried with him

goyan hold both of them, closing themselves from the rest of the world

orym decides to leave with the other genasi citizens back to his quarters. as much as he promised he'd be there for him, this was the time for the wyvernwinds. when dorian needs him, he'll be right there to help and support him, like dorian is for him

the night fell, but the sun will always rise in the end