Hounds Rising

As she walked in, the first thing Ana noticed was multiple easels surrounding a giant cauldron. Two chairs faced the pot, set slightly apart, on the side near her. Lyla gestured to one of the chairs, and Ana moved to sit down. Now closer, she looked at the large portraits on each easel, one for each person who passed at The Jaded Tavern. Her heart reached up to her throat, and her stomach sunk lower, having to look at them again, even if they were just detailed charcoal designs.

She felt something in her mind, like a gentle buzzing. Then, Lyla spoke while moving around, her lips never opening.

Normally, this is a quiet experience. Since we have the ability to talk this way, you can ask questions if you need to.

What are we doing exactly?

It’s a grieving ritual that I was taught a while back.

Ana observed as Lyla pulled a small table between the cauldron and the sketches. Some incense, a candle, her tinderbox, and various other colorful stones that she couldn’t make out in the dim room sat on it.

Carefully, Lyla used her tinderbox to like the candle. She placed the incense in various holders on the table and used the lit candle to burn each one. Ana was a little worried about the amount of smoke filling the air, but she noticed that the white wisps would rise to the ceiling and then disappear as if moving past some invisible wall that the smoke could push through.

Over the next few minutes, Ana watched as Lyla let the incense burn slowly, her eyes closed as she sat in her chair. Then, once the incense had burned halfway, she stood up and moved back to the table. She reached behind her and gently picked up the first sketch. She placed it above the candle, and it slowly started to burn up the white canvas. Lyla put it in the cauldron softly, then moved to the next once it burned completely, then the next. Once the last one started burning in the pot, she looked at Ana.

Now, we thank the elements for helping us process our grief and accept that death is just a part of life.

She leaned down and blew out the candle. As the flame disappeared and the light inside the cauldron vanished in the ashes, Ana could feel the silent tears traveling down her cheeks and falling onto her hands and legs. She felt the immensity of the moment, her eyes trying to focus through the saltwater tears, as she watched Lyla pick up a small glass vial.

Carefully, Lyla scooped some ashes into the vial, filling it. She set it down on the table and pulled a cork from her pocket with a hole going through both sides. She placed the cork into the vial, then grabbed a piece of twine, which she pushed through the cork’s hole, then tied a knot before lengthening the string and making another knot towards the top, as if making a necklace. She sat down in her chair, looked into Ana’s eyes for a moment, then reached over and gave the item to her. Ana carefully held it, and she could feel the heat of the ashes through the glass, but the heat didn’t bother her. She felt both numb and overwhelmed but calm.

This is a reminder that death is just a part of life, but we are not to decide when. When ready, you may return those ashes to the earth or sea, whichever you choose.

Thank you…

They sat in silence, watching the tiny embers in the ashes slowly go out. Not sure if Lyla was still linked to her mentally, but afraid to speak aloud, she thought in her head, hoping she was still listening.

This reminds me a lot of what my father taught me. He always said that, when hunting, you use all of the animal as a sign of respect. It was always an important moment, but we needed to eat, so we did what we had to. This though… I hope you know that I didn’t mean for this to happen.

It takes time, Ana, but we will get through this.

I appreciate you doing this with me. It really means a lot, Lyla.

The silence seemed loud in its way, but they stayed there. Ana wasn’t sure if it was half an hour, an hour, or longer, but they stayed there until the last embers finally stopped. Lyla leaned forward, her hands clasped, and Ana could tell she was struggling to say something. She waited for her to be ready.

“I’m sorry that I was so… blunt. I know it’s not always easy dealing with my thoughts before they’re processed.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Ana responded. “I ran away from it when all you were trying to do was get everyone to understand. I’m not used to your bluntness, but I know I need to get better at it, especially if I want to succeed. People are different, and I wasn’t ready for it.”

They both smiled, and Ana felt better. She knew this group was new to each other in some ways, but she was confident that they would be amazing. She would be there for that story and couldn’t wait to tell it.