eternity. To Sam’s surprise, she maintained her strength.
When she rose to face him, Josephine started to speak, but stopped to catch the tears that wanted to escape. After three agonizing breaths, she said, “What’s your name, fighter?”
Sam wanted to make up a name and run from the room. He had to search for the nerve to speak. “My name is Sam.”
“Well, Sam,” she sighed, “my name is Josephine Smith. This is…” she paused to collect herself. “This was my husband, Brandon. He would have been proud to know you. The way you handled yourself, the way you have shown my family respect by carrying him from the arena, he would have found you to be a man of character. He would have believed his death to be honorable. My husband felt to die in battle was glorious. As much as I would like to be angry with you, I cannot dishonor Brandon’s memory with this emotion. I would like to invite you to his Passing Ceremony. It will be held tomorrow. I’m sure Brandon would’ve felt honored to have you attend.”
A young boy walked into the room. Sam watched as the child moved close to his mother. Just as Josephine had done, he bent over to kiss his father’s forehead. As the child straightened, he handled himself with a presence Sam felt to be far above his seasons. The boy walked around the table and stuck out his arm. Sam felt small as they took hold of each other’s forearm.
Brandon Jr. looked into Sam’s eyes and nodded, “You’re a mighty warrior, sir. My father’s death was glorious. I can only hope to be so honored that I might pass in this manner. I shall follow your career. Do not let my father’s memory pass with you.” The boy released his grip and left the room.
Josephine spoke after her son left. “He will be strong, for now, but he’ll seek solitude. My husband taught our sons that fighting in the arena is noble. He told them that if anything was to happen, they were to hold their heads high and be men. Brandon Jr. will cry when he gets home. But for now, he will honor his father as Brandon would’ve wanted.”
Sam fell to his knees and apologized. His emotions were so intense that Josephine had to comfort him. She encouraged him back to his feet.
“Please don’t, Sam. A man does not weep in the arena. My husband would’ve believed his death to be praiseworthy. His wish would be that you not mourn, but rather celebrate. After his Passing, I’d like you and your family to stay at the farm to celebrate with us. It would be an honor … if it wouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable.”
Sam confirmed that he would attend. After he left the room, he joined BJ and Shalee who were waiting. Without saying a word, they left for the inn. Once they were settled in their room, BJ explained, “The remaining fights have been canceled in Brandon’s honor. The banker of the arena told me that every fighter will be paid as if they had won both their fights. Rumor has it that most of the city’s merchants will shut their doors for Brandon’s Passing Ceremony.”
BJ paused in thought. “Can you imagine how many people will be in attendance, Sam? A populated area isn’t considered a city until it has reached 31,000 souls. If most of these people knew Brandon, this will be a monumental event.”
Sam moved to stand over a wooden table that sat next to the cold hearth of the fireplace in their room. He poured a drink of water from the pitcher. The drink did not quench his thirst the way it normally did. After three more mugs and a long period of silence, Sam finally spoke. “I can only imagine what it would be like to be so well-loved by a community that everyone mourns your passing. I don’t know how I can step back into the arena. How am I going to face all these people? You should have seen his wife. She was so gracious and kind. Even her son was strong. Going to Brandon’s Passing will be far worse than battle. There’s no way I can continue.”
As soon as Sam stopped speaking, the ground beneath the city shook. The shaking lasted for 21 breaths.
From inside the Source’s cavernous home on Luvelles, Lasidious shook the remaining pieces of the Crystal Moon as he held them together in the palms of his