Lars: ‘They dare to tell me what to do. They think they are exemplary teachers. Stupid rednecks! I come from a big city compared to them. They wouldn't let them anywhere near their kids. And they're telling me what to do! Let's go for a ride!’

After drinking three beers, Lars grabbed his son and dragged him by the hand into the car. They drove to the “place of remembrance”2, where Davel planned to honour his wife. There was only one temple in Gai, and that was where Inessa's farewell ceremony was held. Since the Davel family had only basic “LSCs”3 at the moment, Lars had to pay a fee to use the sacred place. Father and son went down to the minus first floor using the lift. Compared to the city temples, the village temples didn't have many rooms underground. Everything was limited to a couple of Places of Remembrance on the minus first and minus second floors, a crematorium and burial cells, which were provided free of charge by the LSC or given on rent.

The Davels headed down the curved corridor to a room with a sign that read ‘PR’, indicating the Place of Remembrance. Theodore had been here before, both in this temple and in this room. He just didn't remember it, as he was too young. Stepping inside, the first thing that caught his eye was a memorial massive wooden table, seating eight people, made of oak. On the sides of the table were long benches. The walls of the room were so well soundproofed that no sound could leave it. This was done out of respect for the personal space of the visitors. Both those who simply came to visit the urns of their relatives, and those who performed their own rituals, commemorating the dead. And everyone's rituals could be different, starting from quiet and calm veneration in complete silence, to a raucous disco with the use of sound equipment. Therefore, thanks to good soundproofing, no one ever disturbed anyone.

– Stay here and don't touch anything. I'll go get your mother. – Lars slammed the door behind him, leaving the child alone for the time being. Theodore walked over to one of the white nightstands that stood in the corner of the square room. It was low, even for the average height of a six year old boy. So the child could easily reach the top of it. On it stood a thick wax candle tied with a dark brown paper ribbon, and to the left of the candle was a holder for the scented sticks that lay inside the nightstand. Ted pulled on the door handle and looked inside. There were a few shelves, and on them were various ritual paraphernalia: herbs, incense, candles of all sizes, ointments, fans, dolls, and other handicrafts. The boy's attention was attracted by a bronze dagger of unusual curved shape. It lay in a scabbard covered with a strange relief painting of suffering faces on fire. Theodore took the dagger in his hand and began to examine the painting in more detail. In addition to the main images, the scabbard had patterns remotely resembling horns, a beard and a crown. The weapon appears to have been made at least 750-850 years ago, in a time of turmoil and unrest. When peace was achieved by force alone. Ted pulled the dagger from its sheath and grasped the handle firmly and raised it upwards, imagining himself a skilled warrior, Rothrig, saving Gai from the evils of which the CEC often told tales. The front door opened and his father walked in, holding a ceramic urn containing Inessa's ashes. When he saw his son, he carefully placed the urn on the table and ran at him with fury, quickly taking the dagger from him and putting it back in the cabinet, closing the door with a clatter.