The day of the memorial had finally arrived, the day meant to honor the dead and mourn the countless casualties of the Blood Wedding of Central Vedelia.
The commemoration was to begin shortly before midday, yet even hours earlier a crowd had already gathered outside. People came in silence, dressed in white as requested, their faces marked by grief, exhaustion, and that hollow look shared only by those who had lost too much in too little time. From every corner of Sancta Vedelia they had come, commoners, merchants, knights, servants, grieving families, and the merely fearful, drawn by loss, by duty, or simply by the need to stand near others and feel less alone in their mourning.
As for the Heads, nobles, and officials, they had begun assembling within the Memorial itself.
