ashes to ashes

    "You know that's going to kill you, right?"

    "I am aware." Stefan took another draw from the cigarette, blowing a smoky stream into the cold, Arctic air. The tips of his curly brown hair waved in the wind. In his other hand, he held a flustered red rose, whose flourishing bud was missing a few petals. He tapped the end of the cigarette, dropping speckles of ash onto the ground. "What a beautiful sight, isn't it?"

    The two men stood in near-silence, only interrupted by a chattering comment from Tomas and a curt answer from Stefan; their black coats contrasted sharply with the bare landscape of the tundra. Tufts of green and spots of color cracked the white blanket of snow. Occasionally a flock of black birds would fly overhead, or a herd of caribou grazing on the thawing flora, either disrupting this haunting silence. But otherwise, it was the closest to nowhere that Tomas has ever visited. Even the Amazon forest, where human civilization existed in the form of isolated tribes, contained an abundance of life. The arctic atmosphere, devoid of any meaningful life, was eerie. Tomas had wanted to move to a warmer place, but Stefan had invited him here on unclear terms.  

    "I would much rather prefer blooming gardens over this wasteland," responded Tomas. He stuffed his hands deeper into his pockets and clenched his jaw so his teeth wouldn't chatter. He only had an inkling of knowledge on Stefan. All Tomas knew was that Stefan was the estranged brother of his late friend, Sebastian.

    Stefan didn't respond and silence once again settled between them. Tomas rubbed the warm, wooden surface of his wand in his pocket, as if it could tell him what to say. What was he supposed to say? All the condolences had been dispensed at the funeral earlier this week and this wasn't a place for casual conversation. Even standing in front of the casket, Stefan didn't show any discernible emotion. Tomas also didn't want to make any reference to the service either, in fear of eliciting a violent reaction from the man.

    "How long did you know him?" asked Stefan, turning to face him. His brown eyes smouldering like the end of the cigarette in between his fingers.

    Upon seeing the man in full profile, it occurred to Tomas that Stefan resembled his younger brother more closely than he initially thought. They were both short, had the same hair and eye shape, and carried themselves with a quiet temperament, but Sebastian's receptiveness to conversation made him more approachable in comparison to Stefan's stiffness.  

    "It will be five years this coming April.” Tomas paused. “He was a good man.”  He considered the man for a moment, “ Is that why we're here?"

    "Why else?" Stefan took another puff and returned his attention back to him. "You know about his... eccentricities, yes?"

    Tomas nodded, remembering Sebastian’s excited mutterings as they roamed the Amazon, looking for ingredients for a potion he wanted to concoct. "Yes, but why here, of all places?"

    "Sentimentality." The slightest smile graced his face. "My brother and I didn't get along well, but we had our moments. He quite liked the Arctic tundra when we visited it many years ago for fun. He said it was beautiful how even life blooms where the sun fails to touch." Stefan turned his head to face the landscape again and sighed wistfully, melting his harsh features. "In the end, he said that he wanted to visit here again. It was the last time we were together."

    "Oh," was all that the other man could manage. Stefan became quite amiable once they started talking about Sebastian; Tomas wondered why Sebastian never talked to his brother in the first place. The older brother mentioned how they didn't get along well, but still, that was no excuse for isolating himself for years. But, Tomas supposed now was not the time to ask that question.

    Stefan gave him a cynical grin and held up the rose for him to see. "How much did my brother teach you?"

    "A few spells. Why?" The wand in Tomas's pocket seemed to radiate more heat, uncomfortably so. It was a gift from Sebastian when they traveled to Europe, but it was the penultimate event before everything started unraveling, serving as a bitter reminder.

    "Here." Stefan handed him the rose. "Light it."

    "Why?"

    “Because I think it fits Sebastian perfectly.”

    He stared at him for a while, bewilderedly. Stefan's expression only held expectancy. Slowly, Tomas brought out his wand and reluctantly said "aprinde." The tip of his wand burst with a small flame, its glowing aura casting an orange tone across their clothes. He brought the wand tip to the receptacle of the rose, holding it there for a few seconds, until its red petals caught fire.

    The flame soon engulfed the petals. The vibrant color soon ashed and blackened as the flame continued its conflagration. One by one, the petals withered and dropped onto the the frozen soil. A pink color tainted the black, inhabiting the curved crannies between the burning folds. Eventually, the flame moved to the center of the rose, burned, and extinguished itself - leaving the consumed flower to smoulder.

    Stefan delicately plucked the remaining petals off and let the Arctic wind carry them. Tomas saw his lips move with each flick of the wrist - a silent prayer. All that was left of the flower was a small bud. He closed his eyes, breathed in the fresh, natural air, and opened his eyes again in tandem of releasing the breath. He crouched down and used his hands to bury the rose, stared at it, and stood up.

    "It is finished," he declared. "Ashes to ashes; it will usher in prosperity after the long winter.” He gazed at the violet-streaked sky. The first stars peeked from the darkening sky. “Farewell, Sebastian.”