It's all one flower.

Through the periphery of winter withers, singing rises to the thin blue sky.

The needle Amiella, as one of the singers, is dressed in a garment embroidered with spells and curses, in powerful words.

"Hitami Firehouse (Hino) and Edge (Eh) Sky Solution (Sorado)

Open the door to the exit route.

The water of the lifetime, so long as we break up the shores of the floating world.

White wings of butterflies leading the way

Five hundred (0) promises (yakuzo) consumer fruit (keha) and dreams of birds (yumidori) at the branch of the road

Everyone will be on a limited journey until we meet again. "

The spells are spearheaded by those from the [guiding white butterfly] school who live in refugee camps and by clerics who came from the temple of the city of Patens.

The [wings of guidance] that send the souls of the dead to pass away without hesitation could not be sufficient for those who died during a period of confusion that was not even between the opening of the refugee camp, although it was originally a curse to be used at the funeral.

At the time, all you had to do was ash the body with antidemons and recover [the sorcerer's tears]. After two years and a little while after the beginning of the war on the Devil's Asthma Cannon, today, we were finally able to carry out a joint solace festival.

Participants are people living in refugee camps opened by the kingdom of Amitostigma, as well as supporters of the Amiellas, priests of the Temple of Patens and the aspirations of the Congregation of the faithful.

Let us pray for the peace of the souls of those who were unreasonably deprived of everything in a sudden air raid and of those who failed to return to their homeland and closed their lives here.

The cemetery of the refugee camp was established with one kennel for each of the five sections.

When it comes to cemeteries, there are no tomb marks carving family names or personal names.

I just made a shelf inside the round cabin and delivered the ashes stuffed in the bottle. Use the empty bottle of beverage I received from relief supplies in time.

At dawn when I was able to restore peace, at least the ashes were built with the desire to take me back to my country. A bottle with a nomenclature in oily magic lines up with a narrow area.

There were no starvation or frozen deaths, but there were several other causes of loss of life, such as illness and accidents and demons in unfamiliar building work.

All of them, if there was no war, were lives that had not to be lost.

Before the cemetery shed could be formed, family and friends acquaintances lived with a bottle of ash with their luggage. The ashes of the heavenly lonely were placed in the corner of the assembly center, and a small possession was dispensed among those who lived in the same hut, he says.

From now on, he will be rested in a cemetery hut, where the dead will be kept just a little further away from everyday life.

Artel army air raids lurked the buzz, and in Cravel, the capital of Nemoralis, the fighting that continued after the coup also calmed down, dramatically reducing the influx of refugees.

There are currently thirty sections of refugee camps. Amiella and the others. A line of comfort moved to the third cemetery. I go around six places in one day today.

Less than a hundred survivors gather to greet them with a magical face.

There is not a single person in mourning. The clothes from the time you escaped, or the old clothes from relief supplies.

"I know how thoughtless you are when you are caught up in an unwanted battle and end up in a different land."

A green-haired cleric bows down toward the shed where the ashes were laid.

"I'm afraid it's very late, but once again, I wish you all the best in your souls. May he be protected from dryness and released from suffering in the shade of the great tree of Qin Peel (Tonerico)."

Survivors tear anew their thoughts about the deceased and their homeland.

The powerful people can cage prayer and magic in the [crystal of magic] brought to them by the clergy, but it also does not come true for the powerless people.

Turn them away, and behold the dead among those who are on the same side.

Today, the Archione of the Bouquet of Peace did not come. I usually come to help [keep the road], but attending the Fraxinus solace festival would be distracting.

Abandoning my country doesn't change the fact that four of the bouquets of peace are from Artel.

Will the day come when they can break it down and talk to the Nemoralists, not caring where they come from?

... but we were all originally the same "Lacus Lacrimaris republicans".

Only about thirty years ago, it was divided between the Nemoralis, the Lacrimalis, the Artels, the people of the Ristover Autonomous Region and the people of the Lanterna Autonomous Region.

In order to put an end to the civil war that lasted half a century, the country was divided by faith, the desired regime and the presence or absence of magic, some of which lived up to their place of residence.

At the time, great adults moving the country, including Congressman Laqueus, thought it was the best way to rewrite the map.

Yet in only thirty years, there was another war.

No matter how many times I go back through Artel's report, which the Roarks investigated, Amiella doesn't know why I had to go to war.

It is salvation that some of the Arthurians found that they wished for peace, but there was an air that could not be said much of it.

The seasonal solace festival without flowers ends soon.

Sometimes they go around six places in a day, and the survivors tell the clergyman one word at a time about their thoughts on the dead, scattering them in three ways.

There is no electricity, gas, water, etc., here.

Everyday life is unexpected and busy.

Sometimes refugees have more people without power than powerful people, and it is like a mountain that they have to live to draw water, pick up firewood, and split firewood. Besides, if you can't use magic, every single one of them is heavy labor.

There are few participants because there is no time to mourn and mourn the deceased.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear that, but I need to think it's better if there's just ashes left"

"My kid's eaten by a warcraft, and he's got one hair, and he's not gonna stay."

Those around them say a cot that does not even comfort a woman who cries after losing her young daughter to illness.

Amiella's father was caught in the midst of a great fire, and his life and death are uncertain.

"You may not cover your grief today, but weep for the deceased."

In the quiet voice of the cleric, a sob broke out from everywhere.