"Blessed is Life." Lord Fletcher said before an altar, kneeling deeply. Behind him, numerous men and women wearing black funeral attire repeated after him, "For life is joy. For life is sorrow. For life is all that matters." Lord Fletcher said with worship, looking up at the small stone statue of a figure, unidentifiable as either a man or a woman, draped in a robe held up by their shoulders, in the left hand a sceptre, the right outstretched with a drop of blood falling. "Life is our blessing. All its joys are our gift, and all its sorrows are our punishment." Lord Fletcher bowed, placing his nose to the ground. "To the ground we will return, and from it the cycle shall repeat."
Lord Fletcher rose and turned. Looking at the men and women who rose with him, he placed his palms together. "Blessed by blood, blessed by life, blessed is the Saint."
