Unlike the days before, the sky that day seemed heavy, covered with thick, sluggish clouds, gray in color and moving slowly, as if holding something heavy inside. The sunlight, which often shone, seemed dim, barely able to penetrate the gaps between the reluctant clouds.
The wind blew softly, carrying a chill that crept into every corner, enveloping everyone in an unusual silence. His breeze was no longer soothing. Instead, it carried a mournful sound that made the leaves rustle in mourning.
In the distance, birds that usually flew around cheerfully singing seemed to be silent on the branches. Their wings were drooping. Their gazes were empty, directed nowhere.
Everything was somber. Everything felt desolate. Even the little river flowing by could not hide its sad glow. Every ripple in the water was a harbinger of sorrow. It told the world of the deep loss they felt.
Without exception. No one could withstand the onslaught of grief as the news spread throughout Frostholm territory. They all jerked awake to find their nightmares violently shaking their nights.
Some did not believe it. They thought it was just unfounded news, just a nightmare that would surely disappear with the rising of the sun.
Alas, no. Their hopes were dashed. Days passed, and the news of mourning remained unchanged. Instead, the nightmare had become a painful reality.
Everyone mourned, struggling with their own grief. They suffered until they could no longer hold back their tears of sorrow.
Not only the Frostholm Palace, but the entire Frostholm Pack felt a gaping hole in their hearts. Ivan’s death caused a deep sense of loss. To them, Ivan was not only a warrior, a warrior leader, but a symbol of strength and hope.
In their memories, Ivan was a steadfast and unwavering figure. He never hesitated to move forward, and even in the darkest of times, he continued to lead with courage. He was not just a warrior leader carrying out the Alpha’s orders, but a werewolf who dedicated his soul and body to the pack. His presence always inspired, ignited the fighting spirit, and now his departure had left a deep wound for them all.
Tears could not be held back. The weeping continued, enveloping the Frostholm Pack territory, growing louder and louder until it filled the area outside the palace gates.
The pack gathered. They knew they could not enter the palace and witness Ivan’s funeral, but they wanted to at least say goodbye to Ivan with full respect.
They lined up, carrying bouquets of wildflowers from the Amerotha forest. They gathered and prayed for Ivan with eyes that tried to pierce the darkness, to the place where Ivan would be laid to rest in peace.
In Frostholm Palace, there was an area that was spared from the hustle and bustle, isolated from the turmoil. It was often quiet there. Few people went there, it could be said only occasionally.
The area seemed simple, untouched by the grandeur of the world. Yet it exuded an aura of tranquility, exactly the peace promised by the moon on silent nights, a solemn vow for the souls who have departed. This was to be Ivan’s final resting place-the palace cemetery.
The people moved to the north side, where the bodies of the pack’s heroes were buried. They stood in silence, forming a large circle around the prepared grave.
Kendrick and Jemma arrived soon after. They were accompanied by Graham and Ayla.
The burial ceremony began. Graham lit a torch from the eternal flame in front of the palace. The eternal flame symbolized the immortality of the soul, and each torch represented the spirit of the fallen warriors.
After the torches were lit, six chosen warriors carried Ivan’s coffin, made of fine oak and decorated with intricate carvings. Among these carvings were the symbols of the pack and the story of Ivan’s life, from when he joined the pack as a warrior to his final sacrifice.
The coffin was placed on a special bier, draped in blue silk-the Frostholm Pack’s color of honor-and embroidered with gold thread that formed the Pack’s emblem. The six warriors then lifted the bier and carried it to the grave with slow, careful steps.
Kendrick stepped forward to stand at the front. The determination on his face could not hide the deep sadness he felt. He took a moment to breathe deeply. Then he raised his hand, signaling for the entire pack to bow their heads and observe a moment of silence.
The atmosphere grew even quieter, with only the soft sound of the night wind rustling through the trees. They prayed; their minds filled with memories of Ivan’s contributions throughout his life.
The funeral continued with the coffin being lowered into the grave with great respect. Each member of the pack was given the opportunity to place a handful of earth on the coffin as a final sign of farewell. The grave was then closed with the singing of an ancient song symbolizing farewell and the immortality of the soul.
Kendrick concluded the funeral by lighting a large bonfire as a symbol of Ivan’s spirit, which would continue to burn in the hearts of every member of the pack. The fire burned throughout the night, as if to keep watch over Ivan in his final resting place.
A mournful howl echoed; the highest tribute given only to the most revered warriors. Its echoes were unanswered. The sound merged with nature, as if the heavens and the earth shared in the profound loss.
After the funeral, a large stone was placed over Ivan’s grave. The stone was engraved with his name and the Frostholm Pack emblem, along with words that symbolized his bravery and sacrifice.
In the last moments before they left the place, Jemma knelt before Ivan’s grave. With her head bowed, she placed a bouquet of white flowers on the grave. In her heart she said. Thank you for all your struggles and sacrifices, Ivan. Thank you. Your deeds that saved me and Usher will always be remembered. Rest in peace.
Soon after, they began to leave the funeral. One by one, they departed with heavy steps, accompanied by a sadness that seemed to last forever.
Meanwhile, at a distance, on a hill, two women mourned Ivan’s death. Both felt an unbearable grief in their separate places.
One of them seemed to be holding her stomach. Through the cascading tears, she struggled to remain strong, for a new life depended on her. I love you, Ivan. I promise I will take care of this child and raise it well. I will tell her how much you loved her.
On the other side, another woman seemed unable to contain her trembling grief. She sobbed mournfully, clutching a necklace that hung around her neck. Forgive me, Ivan. I couldn’t save you again.
The two women were both in a sea of grief. They were both suffering, tortured by the pain of losing the man they loved so much. They were Rowena.
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