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[color=Palegreen]Time[/color]: Late morning
[color=Lightblue]Location[/color]: Roshmi city infirmary
[color=Palegreen]Interactions[/color]: [@Potter]
[color=Lightblue]Ambience[/color]: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u4U8Xifj93o]Passing on[/url]

[hr]

Two guards opened the large wooden doors of the infirmary, allowing them to go back inside. Ilan followed the healer down the courtyard in silence. It was a beautiful place. The garden was filled with blooming flowers and bushes. A fountain was placed in the centre like a compass. A willow tree sprouted from the centre, it's branches bowing down into the flowing water. He'd always liked coming here, despite what horrible things sometimes occurred behind the stone walls. The healer lead them inside and they walked through the hallways in a purposeful gentle pace, Ilan knew they would not disturb the patients that way. The sun shone through the stained glass windows, covering them in softly speckled rainbow light. He felt at peace. 

[color=Goldenrod]"Please enter here young faun."[/color] The healer addressed him in a solemn voice. He followed her inside. The room was full of light, large windows at every corner allowed the light to spill in freely. Everything was bathed in a soft glow. There weren't many things inside the room, despite its size. It seemed to be furnished for only a single patient. There was a drawer, a bath and a bed. The scent of incense caught in his senses. It was that same familiar smell he smelled before. He narrowed his eyes and noticed there was someone laying in the bed, he almost did not recognize who it was. It was the most peaceful he'd ever seen him. Ilan realized what was going on and a chill ran down his spine. The healer kept her silence as she watched the faun inch closer to the bed ever so slowly. 

Ilan forced himself to look and the closer he got, the more he wanted to look away. He kept his jade eyes fixated on the face of the human. He didn't know what he was supposed to feel, anger, sadness...
The absence of feelings alarmed him and he felt his heart starting to beat faster. He just stood there, silently, motionlessly, staring at deceased man. He thought about many things right then. This would be the fate of all humans if the people in Avalia did not rise up to help them. He looked at the man of whom he did not even know his name. Ilan wished things wouldn't have to be like this, life was so unfair. 

The faun was so absorbed into his own thoughts, the gentle hand of the healer on his shoulder startled him. He jumped a little and his ears flattened to his head. He turned to the woman with wide eyes.
[color=goldenrod]"Child... what must we do with his belongings?"[/color] She asked, taking his hand into hers squeezing into it. The gesture moved Ilan, who unknowingly had been on the edge of tears. A lump formed in his throat making it hard to speak. There was a small table next to the bed. Everything the human had carried with him was spread out on a linen cloth. He looked at it, noticing there was a piece of metal among them. A remnant of the metal contraption which had exploded. It must have meant a lot to him. He went through a lot of trouble to retrieve it. Ilan took the scrap into his hands. The metal was cool against his palms. It wasn't sharp and it was damaged and bent due to the explosion. He held it close.

[color=#afe39a]"[/color][color=#d1ebc6]I[/color][color=#f2f2f2].[/color][color=#d1f7c0].[/color][color=#affb8d]"[/color]
His voice cracked.
[color=#afe39a]"[/color][color=#b1e39d]C[/color][color=#b3e4a0]a[/color][color=#b5e4a3]n[/color] [color=#bae5a8]y[/color][color=#bce6ab]o[/color][color=#bee6ae]u[/color] [color=#c2e7b4]t[/color][color=#c5e8b6]a[/color][color=#c7e8b9]k[/color][color=#c9e9bc]e[/color] [color=#cdeac2]t[/color][color=#cfeac5]h[/color][color=#d2ebc7]e[/color] [color=#d6eccd]r[/color][color=#d8ecd0]e[/color][color=#daedd3]s[/color][color=#dcedd6]t[/color] [color=#e1eedb]a[/color][color=#e3efde]n[/color][color=#e5efe1]d[/color] [color=#e9f0e7]g[/color][color=#ecf1e9]i[/color][color=#eef1ec]v[/color][color=#f0f2ef]e[/color] [color=#f0f2ef]i[/color][color=#eef3eb]t[/color] [color=#e9f3e5]t[/color][color=#e7f3e2]o[/color] [color=#e3f4db]t[/color][color=#e1f4d8]h[/color][color=#dff5d5]e[/color] [color=#daf5ce]p[/color][color=#d8f5cb]o[/color][color=#d6f6c8]o[/color][color=#d4f6c4]r[/color][color=#d2f6c1]e[/color][color=#cff7be]s[/color][color=#cdf7bb]t[/color] [color=#c9f8b4]i[/color][color=#c7f8b1]n[/color] [color=#c2f8aa]t[/color][color=#c0f9a7]h[/color][color=#bef9a4]e[/color] [color=#bafa9d]c[/color][color=#b8fa9a]i[/color][color=#b5fa97]t[/color][color=#b3fa94]y[/color][color=#b1fb90]?[/color][color=#affb8d]"[/color]
 Ilan spoke in a rapid manner, afraid his voice might give out once again. The healer nodded, a look of silent appreciation in her wise eyes. 
[color=goldenrod]"He has not been give his last rites, we were......unsure of his beliefs."[/color] The woman informed him. It was usually the job of the family to arrange such things. But he didn't have anyone, Ilan was the only one who knew him here in Avalia. 

Ilan nodded to the woman in understanding. At least now he knew what to do. He closed his eyes and breathed softly. He hoped he could get through this without her. The last time he gave last rites....
He shook off the dreadful memory and went about his task. He gathered the humans hands into his own, flinching at the coldness of their skin touching. He swallowed and bit down on his trembling lip. He folded the hands in a prayer like fashion, placing the memorial metal inside the palms. Ilan sat down in the chair next to the bed and began to weave the flowers he'd bought earlier into a modest wreath. An activity which despite his horrific circumstances filled him with an almost otherworldly sense of serenity. His voice was shaking while he whispered quiet prayers as he weaved. When he was done he placed the wreath on the sheets between the arms of the young man. 

From his bag he produced a brown glass bottle filled with a special blessed oil. He washed his hands at the basin and dripped some of the oil on his clean fingers. When he started to anoint the young man he came to the frightening realization he'd forgotten the correct order, the way his grandmother used to show him. He was blessed not to have to have done it many times, but now he could not remember. He tried the best he could and finished by bowing to the deceased. When he got back up from the bow, he for only a second saw the face of his deceased grandmother instead of the young man. He screamed despite of himself and immediately covered up his mouth, horrified, tears welling up in his eyes. He turned away from the bed and closed his eyes, his breath was shaky and he trembled where he stood. 

After a minute or so he turned back around, the young man was sleeping peacefully, bathed in the soft light of the early morning sun. Ilan went back to the chair and sat himself down, staring at the floral wreath. He felt lost....
It was as if his arms started to move on their own accord. He took the lyre from his back and cradled it in his lap. His fingers started to idly play with the strings. Soon he began to play, a sad song for a bruised heart. 

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