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written by Tiffany May Harrsch
For warnings, spoilers, ratings, and other information, see Pt 0. |
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Prelude: The procession was as stately as any funeral could be. Somehow it seemed different because it was his funeral they were attending. He was surprised so many had turned out for it. Some he knew very well, a few he was sure had hated him, most he only knew in passing. It was a pity it took his own funeral to show him just how highly he was thought of. And he had no way of showing them his gratitude. The priests carried his body to the Circle of Passage. The mourners bracketed them in two neat lines on either side. Two body lengths ahead, his mate and best friend led the procession, taking the place normally reserved for family. It was a long walk from the village to the Circle. Some filled the time by singing the Chants of the Setting Sun while others talked amongst themselves. A few were as painfully silent as the priests, who would not speak in the presence of a body except to say the Rites. Despite the solemn cacophony, five lines of people never once wavered. He knew better than to think it was out of respect for the dead they were keeping company. Thanks to this new disease, they had all had far too much practice taking this trek. He stayed in the front with his mate. Whenever she was around, the very male body he had worn felt both lacking and whole, an exhilarating contradiction he had delighted in. When she told him she felt the same way, they had started the procedures to make their feelings official. The disease had struck him down before they could finalize the joining. Despite what the records might say, everyone knew they were in love. He missed her terribly. She will join him all too soon. Her gait was stiff and her fur limp. She kept leaning into his friend. He couldn't tell if it was due to the disease, or her mourning, or…something else. It didn't matter now, anyway. Their mutual best friend was strong and healthy and would outlive her as well. He was almost glad the two would have little time together. Almost. The group arrived at the Circle of Passage just as the sun met the horizon in all it's auburn glory. Only a priest joined the stars after dark, and he had never had the will to be spiritual. The priests put their load down next to the device that would create the Passage. They formed a curving line around it. His mate and friend stood on either side of his body, waiting for the chore he had never been able to bring himself to do. Everyone else formed one great semi-circle around them. He listened to the quiet symphony of hearts beating and lungs breathing, laced with the clear words of the Rites for the Dead. When the priests fell silent again, everyone took up the Chant of the Setting Sun. He watched with renewed awe as the priests worked the device and the Passage was created. His two closest friends waited a moment for the outward stream to settle back - she almost buckling under his weight - before they fed his body to the liquid blue. The Chant ended with the last light of the sun, almost the same time his body disappeared. He would not follow his body to see where the Passage led. He did not believe in ghosts. And despite the evidence to the contrary, he refused to believe he was dead. L * L * L * LContinued on the next part... |
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© 2000 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa’uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author. Back to Daniel's Mirror This page last updated on 24 Jan 2003: New server and color scheme. |
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