Prologue

The Journal Of Knight. June 25th, 2016

“It’s weird that the sun’s bright and shining. Today of all days.”

That’s what Diana said rhetorically as we were all herded into the church. I thought of what she said deeply. In my mind, Demi’s funeral deserved a ray of sun. Perhaps she wanted the world to cry for him, to weep for her big brother, for some cosmic sign of condolence, but Diana has not been to as many funerals as I have. A light among all the other rainy funerals is a good sign. It’s a change from the classic trope.

When we were inside the church I sat in the back pews, it was a large funeral with many peeking eyes. Over a hundred or so people have come to pay respect to the man they think they knew. I see his Law firm and some associates, his assistant is crying. There was a large portion of the police force who worked closely with him. There were some childhood friends from a time when Demi hadn’t been consumed by work, but that was only one half of the room. The other half were the clients he saved, the students he mentored, those who were grateful for his vigilant work, and his family minus Carson, the middle child.

Father Lawson seemed to be the only priest I’ve ever seen do a eulogy in this city. I’ve known him since I was a boy and if I thought he looked old then, I really had no idea how old he could be now. I didn’t pay his eulogy mind, I’ve seen many funerals of his. Half my own family and he has always said the right thing, besides, I wanted to see if there would be a Rat here today.

There was a large glass window giving light to the church. But I noticed something peculiar about it that no one else did. There was a little black spec growing slightly bigger. It stopped and shrunk in size. It was a person, and I knew then who it was. I thought he’d come here before he disappeared to everyone. I knew I could follow him then, there was no need to move.

Demi chose to have his ashes converted into the soil and sprinkled on the Tree of Maggie; a tree that has had this ritual for just over a century. The culture was to put victims of violence’s ashes into the soil to help the tree grow. It was made for Maggie; the little girl who believed that if a tree grew big enough we could all climb to heaven. She died in a home invasion at the age of seven.

I remember looking at Demi’s father who was facing the sun, he was clearly thinking of Diana’s statement. Poor man. They won’t stay, this city will be just pain of Demi leaving them. The reminders of what’s possible.

No one there knows how much this means. Everything’s different now, this little game we all played. Everyone on the council wants to rule and Demi’s death will be a catalyst for the coming shifts in power. They pay no mind to the moral state anymore, they’re too busy fighting each other. Demi kept it all together no matter how many hits we took. Demi, Peter, and I did it all together. It was our crusade, to bring a better world.

 

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