It was raining that morning. But, for once, the Dark Eye did not seem to mind the slight drizzle that dampened his coat and matted his hair. He strode to the center of the courtyard, directly in front of the great fountain where, even to this day, students began their assignments and their missions. It seemed a fitting place. In his right hand, Chronos carried a rather large hunk of iron, easily the size of a short man. It must have weighed several hundred pounds but, to the iron giant, it did not seem like so much. As he neared the fountain, Chronos paused to stare at the grey sky.

“It seems that the clouds are weeping,” he murmured to his companions, the blond bloodmaster and the dark mystic. “Why are we doing this, Kenjin?”

The avatar, intelligent as ever, was ready with repartee. “Because, Chronos, you are one of the most intelligent people here. Burials need to be taken with care, especially here in the Dome. It was wished for him to be laid here, and we will honor that request. You must sculpt the headstone. Elrick-” And he paused, as he turned his head to the tall blond man beside him “-must dig the grave. And I? I am here because, as with all things, I wish to be here.”

Chronos shrugged his shoulders. “We should not even be here. Especially not Elrick and you. Neither of you can die. It is ironic you should attend.”

Elrick chuckled. “Relax, Metalhead. The guy’s dead. He deserves nothing but the best.”

“Cadenza will be joining us shortly,” Kenjin muttered, and lowered his head. “We’d best begin.” The Dark Eye, deciding it was best to stop asking questions, threw the hunk of iron directly in front of the fountain. “Mold the iron into a fitting burial stone. Elrick, begin by digging the grave.” Kenjin huddled himself amongst his Druid cloak, and observed without opening his eyes the process.

Elrick, as Chronos began to mold the metal, raised his hands above a small patch of wet earth. Red droplets began to pour like rain from the palms of his hands, digging into the soft ground below. After a minute or so, Elrick’s smile brightened, and the blood began to shift the earth upwards, digging and digging. Before long, a great patch of earth, seven feet in length and six feet deep, was open, dirt all around the sides. Because this did not seem very well-done, Elrick completed the grave by levitating the blood-soaked ground he had dug up away from the grave, to the empty grave looked neat. At the same time, Kenjin motioned to the heavens, and shifted the clouds in the sky so that the rain would not flood the grave.

Chronos, on the other hand, had a far more difficult task. Metal poured out from his right arm. As it moved, it covered the hunk of iron with a fine, extremely powerful coat of Chronos’ densest steel. Because the metal he had scrapped together for the gravestone was made of an alloy designed to be long-lasting but not durable, it was easy to mold it into a small, suitable stone. Chronos didn’t know what Johnny Bones would have liked, only that he knew what regular gravestones looked like. The molding process took roughly ten minutes and Chronos, knowing that the comrades of Johnny Bones would have wanted it, left a square indent in the steel so an epitaph could be written in the center. Finished, he planted the metal directly in front of the grave Elrick had dug. It would not rust, he had seen to that, and would last as long as the Dome would.

“Very good,” the mystic murmured. All was prepared. “Now, we shall wait for Cadenza’s requests. Wait with me.” The Dark Eye and the bloodmaster did as they were asked, and flanked the quiet mystic as they awaited the Dome instructor.

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Signature by the Sinfully Delicious Lady Knives