Complete the short story/flash fiction, that has the following opening:
The fire in the brazier was growing weaker. The change was imperceptible to most but for the long-lived Dragon Bound the memory of a brighter fire, a warmer fire, was easily recalled. The flames themselves, multi-coloured and crackling with a heat that kept the night watchmen warm in the coldest of winters, were dwindling in size and the colour was muted and dulled. Fueled by magic the flames waxed and waned as the amount of magic in the world increased or decreased. In the centuries that they had been burning at the Aerie they had never been this low.
Marek was not that old, being a relative newcomer to the Aerie, but his companions in their mountain retreat were older, more experienced and more aware of the changes in magic than he. And they were nervous. Magic, the invisible essence that bound and kept the world together was leaving the realm and filling the void was fear and terror.
Marek stood by the brazier for a few moments more, holding his hands in front of him to warm them and staring into the flames. As the sky grew lighter in the east he looked in the direction of the rising sun and took one last deep breath before letting it go. Standing here was not his mission. Feeling the warmth of the fire while looking at the rising sun was not his mission. His friend, his mentor, was dead and it was his job to help him move on. It was his job to go on the Last Ride.
Post a link to the story in the comments.