You make sure I always see the daylight

Alastor had brought Relm home on his own once he had gotten over the initial wave of pain finding her had crippled him with. He had dragged her lifeless body across the channel, cold and rigid from her time drifting in the tide, just to make sure she was put to rest properly. Manea had found him carrying her back across the bridge when it had happened. She had helped him prepare a funeral pyre for the pink woman, Alastor saying nothing during the entire process. He knew he wanted to cremate Relm. The thought of her rotting in the cold, hard ground beneath his paws was too unbearable to consider. So she would burn. And just as the candle of her life had done, she would burn until she burned out. Alastor didn't speak a word through the small affair. Avacyn was notified on the death for logistics purposes, but the funeral itself was attended only by Alastor with Manea at his side. He didn't want to make this a whole thing; Relm would've hated that.

Laying the corpse of his lover down on the pyre of oil-soaked wood was a surreal experience. Gazing down at her still features, never to move again, never to look up at him with silver eyes or smile at him when they crossed paths. Relm had told him she wanted to die, and he had tried to convince her otherwise. He had failed her. He had failed her just like he inevitably failed everyone. Everything he touched ended up broken worse than before he came along. Alastor had stroked Relm's cheek, a single tear rolling down his muzzle as he bid her farewell with one last kiss to the end of her snout. Dropping the burning torch on her pyre was a surreal experience. Feeling the heat of the flames rising to claim her body felt wrong. But Alastor sat and watched until the flames had spread across the wood until only they could be seen. Soon enough, all that would remain of Relm would be ashes and memories. She was gone.

Alastor sat in stoic silence, just watching the flames burn. Their glow reflected in his empty black abyssal eyes. All emotion was drained from his expression, making the dire brute look more akin to a sculpture than a living being. He sat so perfectly still, only the occasional rustle of wind making his fur move. He would stay here for as long as it took for the fire to burn out. This was the least he could do as penance for failing her. It was how he deserved to suffer.

"Manea & Alastor Mendacium"