The only word he could find to describe the building he was in was 'church'. It didn't look like a traditional one from Earth, it looked like all the other buildings in the village. It was a long shack made of the same pale wood as every other building, chairs placed at semi even intervals along its length. Tapestries and windows covered the walls, one huge and colourful tapestry hung at the far wall opposite the door. In front of that wall was a wooden container that could only be described as a coffin.

There was a person in every single flimsy chair, the sounds of their sobbing filling the room. Eli stood at the back, behind the very last chair next to Korian. He stared at the closed coffin, knowing who was in it, knowing it was his fault Amos was in there.

It was two days after the Mage had shown up in the village, two days that had been filled with a strange eerie silence. Korian had taken him back to the tree base the day after to let everyone there know what had happened. The people at the base had been lucky enough not the be affected by the Mage's attack. They had only stayed one night, heading back down to the village the next morning to see what damage had been done.

The people were quiet that day, wandering the streets like zombies. They didn't seem to know what to do, they had given up. He did see some in the fields trying to tend to the crops, but more than once he saw them throw down their tools and walk away.

The stalls were closed, the children gone, the sun beating down on the dirt road and its inhabitants. When the pair arrived, the villagers turned their heads to the ground, not daring to even glance at Eli. He wouldn't either, it was his fault.

They had spent that day trying to help out as much as they could. Eli helped look after those who had been injured when the Mage had attacked and dragged them all out into the street. Korian used the little magic he had left to try and fix the crops, giving all that he had back to the land. It didn't do much, but Eli had been told that they would survive for a little while.

They had spent the night in Amos's shack because despite the help they had given the people, they still didn't want them around. Amos's house was the only building where they would not be turned away. Eli had barely slept that night, the guilt that was slowly consuming him only worsening as he stayed in the dead man's house.

Now, early in the morning, he stood in the hall with Korian and the rest of the villagers. The yellow morning light seeped through the windows, casting oddly shaped shadows over the walls. It lit up the coffin as if something holy hid away inside of it.

Everyone had been seated for a while and yet no one had come up to say anything, unlike a normal funeral on Earth. He wanted to ask Korian what was going on but knew that doing so would be disrespectful.

There was no signal that anything was about to happen, but without anyone saying a single thing, the villagers began to speak at once. It took him a second to realise that they were singing, every single one of them. He glanced at Korian, watching his mouth move with the words. He could only assume it was a tradition in Arumnian funerals.

The song was slow, almost haunting, the voices of the villagers melting together into a powerful harmony. He stayed silent, not knowing the words. He allowed the foreign words to fill his ears, closing his eyes and losing himself in the sound. There was a longer note and he found himself able to pick up the sound of the deep baritone men and the high pitched voices of the women and children. It was beautiful.

He didn't know what it meant, couldn't even understand the words now that they were stretched out. Despite it, he felt like the song fit the situation; that its hauntingly long notes and the hundreds of villagers voices singing it spoke perfectly about how they felt about Amos.

When the song began to fade away and Eli finally opened his eyes he found his cheeks wet. He hadn't even realised he had been crying, he didn't know he was that upset. He looked back to Korian when the last person's voice finally faded away and the building was left in silence. The other man looked startled by his tears, as though it were something he was unused to seeing. He dug through his pocket and pulled out a cloth not unfamiliar to a handkerchief.

Eli gratefully took, wiping at his eyes gently. "What was it?" he asked, sniffing.

"A song," Korian started, letting out a little smile. "We sing it when people die to erm..." He trailed off with a spinning gesture of his hand. He was trying to think of the right word. "We do it to show... Respect to them. Show that their life did not go wasted, so to speak."

He nodded, but couldn't think of anything else to say. The song was fitting for a celebration of a person life, even if it did sound unbelievably sad. There was an odd lilt of happiness in it in the high pitched voices, making the song seem like it encompassed life completely.

Before anyone could say anything else, people began to stand and make their way towards the coffin one at a time. Eli frowned, watching as they placed their hands upon the polished wood and bent down, planting a kiss above where Amos's head would be.

"Come," Korian said, gripping his wrist and pulling him down the centre of the hall. He could feel the eyes of the villagers still sitting watching them, but he didn't care. He wanted to pay his respects to the old man who had died to keep him safe. It was his fault he was dead after all.

Eli watched Korian follow the rest of the villager, bending over and giving the coffin a light kiss. He turned back, gesturing Eli forward with a reassuring smile. Briefly glancing to the other man, out of support or confusion, he did not know, Eli placed his hands on the cool wood. He bent forward and placed his lips against it, trying to push away the guilt that came rushing forward at being so close to the man he had gotten killed.

Eli moved away quickly, allowing those who had gathered behind him to pay their respects. Korian stood off to the side, staring at one of the many tapestries hanging on the wall. He stopped next to him, their arms brushing together.

The pair stared at the tapestry in silence. Eli hadn't really looked at them while he had been standing and waiting for the ceremony to start. This one had the image of two women, one shrouded in light, the other in dark. They stood back to back, each with a weapon in their hands.

Frowning, Eli looked at another on the opposite wall. In this, the woman in light held her sword up high. The tapestry made it looked like it twinkled and shone with her as if it were a part of her. On the other side was the woman of darkness, an army behind her. It was then that Eli realised that the two women looked the same.

He turned again, this time looking at the one on the wall behind Amos's coffin. It was of the woman in the light again, this time surrounded by other men and women. Her eyes were glowing, different from all the other tapestries. One of the men near her was bent over a table, a quill in hand. He assumed that he was writing down the woman's words.

"What are they?" he asked, hoping the Korian would hear him. The man huffed out a startled breath, arm knocking against Eli's as he turned.

"You could say they are art from long ago," Korian started, staring at the same one as Eli. "It shows a war from a very long time ago. There was a fight, between evil and its reflection. She was from your world, they say. She made a sword," he gestured over to the one of the two women facing off against each other, the one of light holding the twinkling weapon up high. "She used the magic of the land to make it. No one really knows how she did it. She used it to fight the evil, and she won. After that they say she saw something," he pointed over to the last one Eli had looked at. "They wrote down what she said, 'only the reflection of evil can defeat evil'. They put away her words and her sword at the place of the fight. There has been no other evil since, but we still look to the words."

He already knew that last part. Everything that had happened was because the people of Arumni believed those words with all their heart. It was nice to see where those words originated, that they did have some source and weren't completely made up. Korian's story, while filled with basic words that didn't seem to quite fit properly, gave him ideas.

"Do you still have the sword?" he asked, looking up at him hopefully.

"Not here," Korian replied. "At a place for remembering." A memorial of some kind, Eli assumed. He hadn't learned the word for that yet, maybe one day he would. Amos wasn't going to be there to teach him anymore, and that was Eli's fault.

Around them, people were still moving towards the coffin, planting a soft kiss to the pale wood and moving off to join what was left of their families. It wouldn't be the only funeral today, or for the rest of that week. Eli would be hearing the haunting song for many days to come.

"We could use it, right?" he questioned. Korian turned to face him then, a confused look on his face. His eyebrows furrowed and mouth turned down into a frown. He looked just like his best friend did when he was studying and didn't understand a question. For a while, Eli had forgotten that they shared the same face. They were so different that he was finding it hard to remember.

"What do you mean?" his best friends lookalike asked.

"If it is still there, then we can go and get it," Eli started, trying to keep the hope out of his voice. This wasn't the right place to sound happy. "It could help us, right? If we go and get it, it could help us kill the Mage. It would work, yes?"

Korian looked at him, mouth open and eyes wide. He blinked a few times, looking as if he were thinking. "I- That might work. I don't know," he replied. "That is good. You did good, Eli. They say the sword is strong and uses magic stronger than any evil. It could kill the Mage, I am sure."

Part of Eli didn't actually believe what Korian was saying. But looking at the tapestries, he wanted to hope that his idea was right. He was far from strong enough to defeat the Mage, and he couldn't even wield magic himself. The sword was more than powerful enough for what he needed to do. Korian could teach him to use one properly on the way.

"How do we get there?" he asked.

"It is far, but we can do it," Korian answered, giving him a small private smile. Glancing back over to the coffin, Eli saw that the last person had kissed the wood, and four men were moving forward to lift it up. It was a familiar gesture, he'd seen it on the news and in movies all the time. "We will walk. I will take you."

The men moved down the building, coffin above them. The villagers spread out to let them pass, watching quietly. After it passed they turned and began to follow it out the building, until every single villager was following Amos's coffin.

Korian and Eli didn't move, instead, they watched the rest of the villagers. Eli kept his eyes pinned on the coffin, finally allowing the guilt to rush through him. If he could just get the sword, then he would be strong enough to defeat the Mage. He wanted to avenge Amos's death, he didn't want his guilt to stay with him for the rest of his life. He wanted to go home, he wanted to see his mother again.

Now, there was something else he wanted. Now, more than anything, he wanted to save Arumni, and stop others from dying. He wanted to see the village lush with crops and grass and plants again. He wanted to see Korian and the other villagers happy. All it would take was a sword and a dead Mage.