As the last group of glyphs light with veilfire, there is a sensation of excitement and anticipation. An Avvar hold celebrates a night festival around an altar piled high with food and drink. The thane begins a song. The hold joins in. The song grows louder and faster. It goes for hours.
As the sun rises, a blazing spirit appears above the altar. It has the name of the spirit that fell in battle. It is both the same spirit and a different one at the same time.
There is a ear-splitting roar of—triumph? Welcome? Something more?—from the gathered Avvar. The vision fades.