The flames glowed gloomily as it slowly consumed the Orkamuu's lifeless body. Adaloun watched silently as he sat on the ground, his back slumped from fatigue and hunger. Unfortunately, the jovial Orkamuu succumbed to his injuries and died peacefully even after Orphella and Papillon's intervention. He thought of how fickle life was as a mortal, not even the most powerful weapon could save you from death; not even Papillon.
In his hand he held Wahakim's scythe; the fiery one as he called it in the Orkamuu's native tongue, a name that he couldn't fully pronounce himself. The Orkamuu gave it to him as his parting gift to them. He whispered in his ears the name of his weapon and even then, Adaloun knew that he couldn't use the scythe's true form.