With that sudden boast of wind, the topmost candle was knocked onto the edge of the casket...
Its flame began to lick along the coffin, scoring its way up to the lid, where it stopped and remained still in a single place, burning the wood where it rested. The men bored their gazes raptly into the flickering ember as if in anticipation of something to occur. And at last, the flame moved. It drifted across the coffin, etching a faltering cursive strain of symbols into the wood. After it came still again, ashes settled within the black groove of its trail; and indeed, the symbols were letters, forming words.