Coral’s death was critical to the fragile society on many levels. She meant so many things to so may different levels. The art of her dying was no different.
The Eoti had been methodically called, summoned one be one they entered her ante room. Her death chamber became rather crowded as if is it was a freakish event to be gawked at some horror show.
Finally Syrka arrived and cleared the death chamber of the dross that had no business among the dead and dying. He spoke to the loudly and in a more ancient term.
“Elo thaboiuc Ta Ni”
After he spoke there words it was as if a heavy curse filled the room all but The Eoti remained to carry Coral through the Death March.
(Enter Death March Here)
The Chain Stokes breath thing had set in meaning the carriers of death were soon approaching and the Eoti would need to be soon in their exacting positions.
Something was different about the reaping of Coral’s soul. None of the Council of the Eoti could quantify it by account later buy the atmosphere and tone where marked with underpinnings of malevolence that none of them quite understood.
(enter process of death=print capture here if needed)
Upon glancing the death=print the Eoti were each one in complete amazement…
No one spoke for minutes or perhaps hours. Time became irrelevant when one becomes locked into the transcendental and indeed this death print was not only beyond explanation at that moment, it was also a thing of complete beauty in and of itself. It reflected a part of Coral’s soul that was a complete mathematical enigma. No one knew what they saw, including Syka. All he knew was he had better guard her Death print with his very life.
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