The Flame of Time
Like a proud music that draws men on to die
Madly upon the spears in martial ecstasy,
A measure that sets heaven in all their veins
And iron in their hands.
I hear the Nation march
Beneath her ensign as an eagle’s wing;
O’er shield and sheeted targe
The banners of my faith most gaily swing;
Moving to victory with solemn noise,
With worship and with conquest, and the voice of myriads.
The next day’s celebration commenced normally. Word of the illusory hand had spread throughout all the guests and Time Fixers on Skyheim. The twins and Leomourn were escorted to the terrace and the official ceremony started.
The ceremony was long but enjoyable, recounting all the events and hardships that had led these heroes upon the path that eventually saved the very fabric of time and space. Every move and choice they had taken was, be it known or not to them at the time, in the best interest of all life. Returning and mending the Cosmic Clock being their paramount achievement, earning themselves the title and rank of Champions of Time.
After memorializing all of the party’s good deeds, a more quiet and somber tone that descended upon the gathering. The leader of the celebration bowed his head as six Time Fixers from all over time and space carried something towards the center of the terrace.
The body of Salvatore rested in quiet repose, sealed magically within a finely crafted and beautifully polished glass coffin. The body was preserved by ancient magicks to keep the vessel alive and suitable for resurrection. Those who ported the glass coffin stopped and released their charge, it floated in the air as if weightless or supported by some invisible force. A requiem was said and observed, not much was said after.
Three brooches were bequeathed upon the heroes and two more were presented to Darella for safekeeping, as the Elf and Dwarf were absent. Just as the celebration was coming to an end there was a sound.
A hole appeared in the sky as the prow a ship punched though space and time.
“The Hammerhead!” Leomourn exclaimed. The presider of the ceremony seemed slightly offended but aloof enough to ignore the current setback, others yawned bored, and yet some rolled their eyes seemingly annoyed at the fashionably late dwarf with whom some of which had met and perhaps even worked with on a mission or two; knowing how difficult it was to work for Captain Shardhammer.
“Delgen.” Darella said.
The whole of the great stone ship emerged from the rupture in space-time. Delgen was standing on the front of his ship, hair flowing in the wind. A small mechanical creature perched upon the dwarf’s shoulder.
“Hmm? Yes Percy, they are. These are my friends I have told you about.” Delgen said, his attire and effects had greatly differed. A noticeable in crease of silver lined the seams of his finely craft clothes as well as the sides of his head, granting a very cavalier demeanor.
“I have found a way to bring the Hound back.” Delgen the debonaire dwarf said. Grinning, his smile reflected in the bright sunlight.