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[ I'm really glad I met you, Sora. She sounds so far away to him. He tries to reply, because as cheesy as it sounds he feels the same way, but the words don't make it out. Just another cough, a horrible wheeze.
And then nothing.
His head hangs limply, the barest of breezes ruffling his hair slightly. Seconds tick by in the silence as his body grows colder. It seems like an eternity before anything happens. When something does happen it's hardly noticeable at first. Almost all of Sora's skin is covered, his position hiding his face. But slowly a warm glow spreads over his skin. Ironic that in the moments before he's going to burn he gets to look almost normal again. Glowing full of life, and like he's only sleeping as he kneels in the snow.
The flames that start to swirl up on and around him almost look like his own fire spell. He was right to have chosen somewhere far to make his funeral pyre. ]