And then neither of them said anything more but just looked at the sea and the lightening clouds—at the sun which was starting to come out—at the pterodactyls swooping and diving for fish.
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Father Severinsen tapped the mic, cleared his throat.
“And so, my children, my, ah, my former children of the dark,” he said. “Here we are: gathered on the Fountain Plaza as we did in the days of old ... gathered in the name of the Father, the Son and of the Holy Ghost, and in peace. Let’s start by giving ourselves a round of applause, shall we? For having come so far and in so little time; and for having the courage of our convictions to pick ourselves up from where we once stood so sinful and proud and begin anew, begin like lambs! And for commemorating, at last, Burn’s End. The day we fina
