Canna stepped out of his domain and back into the ruins of Avaloria. The once-thriving kingdom now lay in ashes, its buildings reduced to rubble and its streets littered with the remnants of lives lost. As he surveyed the desolation, a deep sorrow welled up within him.
He knew he had to leave soon, to continue his journey and fulfill the promises he had made, but there was one last thing he needed to do before he could move on.
He summoned all available people from his sanctuary—barbarians, Verdant Wardens, and his trusted subordinates. Mortem, Vorgrim, Flora, and Grimruk were there, ready to lend their strength. Even Stormtusk, with his towering presence, and Nyx, the shadow bear, had stepped out of the sanctuary. They knew the weight of the task ahead and understood the importance of what Canna was about to do.
Canna's voice, though calm, carried the weight of his grief and determination. "Collect all the corpses," he commanded. "Make a big enough hole. We're going to bury them."
There was no hesitation in his orders, and none among his followers questioned him. They understood the need for this final act of respect, this last attempt to give peace to the souls who had suffered such a cruel fate.
Half a day was spent in solemn labor. The air was thick with the scent of death, drawing monsters from the nearby forests and mountains. But Stormtusk, Nyx, and the undead army stood vigilant, guarding the borders and fending off any threats that dared to approach.
The massive thunder mammoth, Stormtusk, let out low, rumbling trumpets that echoed through the ruins, serving as both a warning to the beasts and a reassurance to those working that they were protected.
Canna himself was not idle. He moved through the ruins with a heavy heart, gathering the remains of those who had fallen. Each body he found—whether burned, broken, or buried under debris—he handled with care, as if he were laying down a comrade for the last time. His hands were steady, but his heart ached with each life lost.
The others gathered around him, their expressions solemn. There were no words exchanged; none were needed. They had all felt the loss, and they all shared in the resolve to honor the dead by continuing the fight for the living.
Canna finally lifted his head, his gaze sweeping across the assembled group. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you all for helping to give them the peace they deserve."
There was a collective nod from his followers, each one acknowledging the importance of what they had done. Even Stormtusk and Nyx seemed to understand, their usually fierce eyes softened with understanding.
As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, casting the ruins of Avaloria in twilight, Canna turned away from the burial site. The time for mourning was over. Now, it was time to act, to take the next step in his journey and ensure that the tragedy of Avaloria would not be repeated.
With one last look at the ruins, Canna and his companions returned to the sanctuary, ready to continue their mission. The dead were at peace, but the living still needed protection, and Canna was more determined than ever to provide it.
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While Canna and his companions were tending to the dead in Avaloria, Mira remained in the sanctuary, her young mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. She had sensed the heaviness in Canna's heart when he left, and it weighed on her as well. To distract herself, Mira spent her time playing with the horned hares and the green groundhogs.
The little beasts, now more accustomed to her presence, nuzzled against her, their soft fur a comforting distraction. But even as she laughed and played, a part of her longed for Canna's return, hoping that when he did, the sadness she had seen in his eyes would be gone.