The day of Melinda's funeral arrived beneath a quiet gray sky.
The weather itself almost seemed to understand the mood of the world, because for the first time since the Sovereign War had ended, there were no celebrations echoing through Nortasia. The cheers that had once filled the streets after humanity's victory were gone, replaced instead by silence, mourning, and remembrance.
The Presidential Island had been transformed overnight.
Large white flowers lined the roads leading toward the ceremonial grounds near the eastern cliffside overlooking the ocean. Tall black and silver banners carrying the national crest of Nortasia swayed gently with the wind, while rows upon rows of chairs stretched across the vast open field where thousands had gathered.
Military officers.
Government officials.
Foreign leaders.
Soldiers who had survived the war.
Families who had lost loved ones.
