Chapter 82: The Banquet of the Dead
The process prior to the burial lasted almost an hour.
No one seemed particularly impatient with that procedure.
It was as if time itself understood that, in the face of death, men should move more slowly.
The old priest stood beside the coffin, holding a thick book with worn covers. His deep voice traveled through the small chapel as he pronounced lengthy prayers.
Each paragraph seemed to contain part of ancient rituals long preserved through generations.
The townspeople listened with respect, some with lowered heads and others with gazes lost on the horizon.
In Miracle City, every death was significant and carried weight for the citizens.
Gabriel observed the coffin without looking away.
He still felt strangely distant... yet close at the same time.
He did not feel pure indifference.
It was a sensation that diminished as he watched the farewell of the woman for whom the original woodcutter had sacrificed so much.
But the inherited memories were still present. He remembered the smell of that hot soup during the winters.
He remained standing, with a straight posture despite his hidden pain. His classic expressionless mask covered his face.
Finally, the priest slowly closed the book. The prayers ended.
"Now... Take a few minutes to say goodbye," he said serenely.
It was then that the old priest approached him, placing his bony hand on his shoulder.
"She left in peace, Gabriel. The world had that compassion."
For a brief moment he hesitated, observing the bandages covering much of his body.
He also noticed the stiffness with which he stood.
It was evident that he was enduring considerable pain.
"But you should treat those wounds seriously. How did you get them?"
"It’s a long story. I suffered an attack by a wild animal after discovering it."
The people nearby exchanged glances of understanding. In the forests it was not exactly a strange phenomenon.
"If you think it’s necessary, you should go see the doctor," commented an elderly woman.
"I will," Gabriel replied briefly with a hoarse voice.
He had no intention of extending the conversation.
The brief time for farewells ended and the procession had to continue.
Four robust men carefully lifted the coffin onto their shoulders.
The small crowd began to advance, as the cemetery was not far. Just a few minutes walking along a dirt path surrounded by small stones.
The grave was already ready after the exhaustive work of the gravediggers.
With great care they lowered the coffin using thick ropes. When it finally touched the black earth, one of the men took a shovel and began to fill the hole.
Some women began to cry silently. The men remained with hardened faces.
In a hostile environment, carrying the burden of death also formed part of their responsibilities.
Then Gabriel took a step forward. Clearing his throat.
He raised his gaze toward all those present.
"Everyone, this is undoubtedly a sad moment. My mother has passed away and has left us. But today I will tell you about the Banquet of the Dead."
His words received surprised looks in unison. A gray-bearded man finally asked cautiously:
"Is it a story, Gabriel?"
To his question, he simply nodded.
"It is a story. About the innocent harpist who survived before the eyes of the dead and their voracious banquet."
His words attracted attention, but still seemed deeply out of place in the context of a burial. Some frowned in confusion.
However, no one interrupted him. Perhaps they understood that this was his way of coping with the pain.
"A lonely harpist who one day received a letter bound in gold, to a banquet organized by The Patron."
Several people raised their eyebrows slightly. Without realizing it, they had begun to listen attentively.
"Go on, Gabriel. Continue... I want to hear about this harpist," commented one with a tired smile.
He closed his eyes and all his memories returned with clarity. The scene was still alive in his memory.
"Dressed as an ordinary bard, he attended this ceremony. His appearance was not impressive, but his skills were brilliant. Although no one could expect what he would find..."
Little by little he wove his story, based on what he had experienced before. The words flowed naturally, instantly capturing attention.
"With only a harp and his magical fingers, despite the dark and empty eyes watching him, he was able to play an incredible piece."
A warm sensation slowly ran through his chest. Like an invisible current.
It did not come from within him, but from the surroundings. The world itself seemed to approve his decision.
His heart began to beat strongly.
"Finally, before the bodies disappearing in melted wax, he found himself directly with The Patron. Who asked him questions..."
He asked only two questions.
"What was his name."
"What was his meaning to keep moving forward?"
"The Patron, after praising him, replied that the only good that not even death could possess in the end, was perseverance."
Gabriel slowly raised his gaze toward the gray sky. Tears shone at the corners of his eyes.
He could not recognize if his tears were the product of the woman or the woodcutter.
Or perhaps of himself.
"I think it is an appropriate message... don’t you?"
His words received small applause from moved listeners. Some wiped their eyes.
"It really is a story full of meaning."
Another woman discreetly wiped her tears.
"I had never heard anything like it."
Finally, Derek stepped forward.
He firmly placed a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder.
"May she rest in peace, Gabriel."
When the shovels slowly resumed their work, the earth finally covered the coffin completely.
Until only a small mound of fresh earth remained. The ceremony had concluded.
Amid light murmurs, the cemetery began to empty. After a while Gabriel began to wander again, returning to his cabin on the outskirts.
He needed to rest, because his wounds were significant.
Even so, he remembered again and again that strange warmth that had enveloped him while telling the story.
It had not been the work of his imagination. He had sensed it in the depths of his bones, with illuminating clarity.
The correct path before him was revealed.
To finally meet Baron Miracle and dispel his doubts about the challenge, he should tell stories with meaning.
It was the only way to obtain the answers he sought.