Emonie comes up. With light steps, she leans down, placing the broken-winged bird charm from her earring onto the ash. As soon as she steps away and sits beside me, more Vulmin take her place, each one of them setting down their own sigils. Until there’s over a hundred of them lying at the foot of my home, glinting among ash and rubble. Until all of them are kneeling with me, here on the hallowed street. A silent tribute. A wordless bond.
