The crows trail in behind the third burdened crow who places the flowers at every grave,
The sky suddenly splits with color and the rain clears as the light from the lantern and the crystal collide, shooting beams into the sky. The beams return to earth, connecting to each of the flowers, exploding with another flash upon contact.
Once the lights fade, there they stand, the dead and gone, but remembered. The crows cheer and run into the arms of those they had lost. This is the day of the living. The day of the returned. The day of life.