You retire into your beds, thinking of what the future holds for each of you. Your rest is well-earned so you fall asleep quickly. But first, you consider next steps.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The morning came, and it was a new dawn like any other. Kazador sat with Mel and Hal, eating breakfast as they had always done. He wouldn’t call it “enjoying breakfast”, as it was simple fare. But they had eaten worse on the road. Poking at his eggs, he thought back once more at all they had been through. But it was the funeral which put it all into stark relief. He hoped to earn the right to have a funeral such as Perrin’s, which would leave a good name intact.
”I’ll be going to Revan.” He said, skewering a sausage with his fork. ”I’ll be seeking out Warden Oldstone. Find out how many Runewardens are left. Take part in training a new generation. And perhaps in time, I’ll return home. Resettle Kazad Gravr.” He thought back at the others they had relied upon, and added ”And if I can pull it off, I’m thinking…” He gave a small pause. ”Of seeking out some of the others. Like Turion, and Fyrtor. Me home fell, in part, because we went at it alone. There aren’t enough of me people on this continent to make it work. If it comes back to life, it will need to be done with more than dwarven hands. Me time here, traveling with ye two, has taught me as much. And of course, if I do manage to pull this off, I’ll be sending word to the both of ye. Ye both are rightful bearers of me people’s greatest artifacts, after all. It’s only right that ye should see the Hold as more than a tomb.”
Mel nods. "That's good, Kazador. I would like nothing more than to see your home restored. And I believe you're correct. The secrecy that Kazad Gravr wrapped itself in may have felt like a strength. But in the end, secrecy proved itself a weakness. They had no allies to call on for aid when they needed it."
Mel pulls out the mithral gloves she has worn for the past few months, admiring anew the exquisite craftsmanship of the supple mail. "If you like, I would be happy to return these to you now. Delving a new holding will no doubt be dangerous work -- always the risk of a slip with a tool, an improper shoring in a tunnel, or disturbing some unfriendly creature. Perhaps they can help save a digger's life or limb."
Kazador smiled at the gesture, and took a moment to consider it. Thoughtfully, he responded ”I appreciate that. But it depends, really. What will ye be doing? They can always be brought home should I actually succeed. If they can keep ye safe and sound, then I’d rather they stay where they are.”
"I'm still thinking," she says. "I have some ideas, but ..." Her voice trails off.
"How about you, Hal?" she asks, turning to the wizard. "The Reaps are, well, not gone, but it sounds like their old leadership got ... removed. I don't think anyone is going to be coming after you now. The few who are left will be too busy rebuilding to worry about pursuing grudges from years ago, if they're even old enough to remember you. Are you ready to go find Sheila and Margie?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Hal smiles "I was ready on the boat!" he proclaims "But I'm glad I stuck around. Nice town, this. Reckon I might see if me girls are interested in comin' back here. With y'r friend gone there's a need for someone with my skills."
"I know you lot don't take kindly to scryin', so I hope you'll keep in touch. Maybe, whatever happens, we can pick a spot to send a letter to every year or so? Be nice to know you two are still out there doin' good, and even better if ya can drop round some time to look in on an old rogue gone to seed!"
"Brookside is a wonderful village," Mel says. "I'm sure Margie and Sheila will love it. I considered settling here myself. And maybe I'll come back some day. But for now ..."
She pauses, gazing out the window. "Well, first things first. I think you two should come back to Helm with me. Right before we left to come here I got word that the Bishopric had agreed to buy The Siren -- I think they're planning to refit it as a naval vessel. Anyway, by this time the paperwork will be done, and you're both due a share of the proceeds. And also Fyrtor and Túrion, though I may just deposit that in a bank here and send them notes with the credentials to claim it at their leisure. That's bound to be a good chunk of change to help each of us on our way."
"As for me ... I have to update my journals, and then go see my parents in Avinoax. They have no idea what all happened and I'm sure they're worried to distraction."
She pauses, nibbling on some buttered toast. "I think I'm going to buy a sailboat. Something small I can run by myself, so I can take the long way to Avinoax, down around the southeast coast. So much has happened. I could do with some time by myself, to think everything over. Just me, the sky, the waves, and Ostara." She looks down at the floor, where a red-orange fox watches each bite of the morning meal attentively. "Well, and Rally I suppose."
"After that? Well. We'll see what happens. But ... I've always been interested in the Blackthorn Wars. Especially the first one. It happened so long ago that all we've really got are fragments of stories, half-remembered legends, and a wild profusion of apocrypha. I might go find Brolin, see if I can get an interview with Legacy. I bet he knows things for certain that the rest of the world has forgotten. Now that I can hear memories, sometimes, maybe Legacy would be willing to talk to me directly." She shrugs. "At the very least, I imagine Brolin can give me some pointers on listening to the memories of the past. Once I've gotten better at that, maybe I'll just go find ruins from those old days and sit in them and listen to whatever they have to tell me."
She takes a bite of scrambled eggs. Chews slowly. Swallows. "I can still be a scholar," she blurts out. "I guess that's what I'm saying. Even if I can't go home to the Concordat, I can still be a scholar. Just on a different path than I thought I was on. And some day I'll settle somewhere. That's certain. But for now, I don't know where I'll end up, or when. And I'm all right with that. I'm a seed on the wind, but some day I'll come to my landing."
"And I owe that to you," she goes on, looking back and forth between both of them. "I am so grateful to you and to everyone who's stood by my side over these past months. I grew up reading stories of adventure, but I never really dreamed I'd live one. And if it hadn't been for you two, and all the others who helped us along the way ... well. I would just be dead. You've given me the chance to go find that new path, and together we did a lot of good along the way. Thank you. From the bottom of my heart."
She reaches out, smiling, and clasps their hands.
After your early breakfast, you say farewell to Vors and his family. He grips Hal's and Kazador's hands warmly, offers his hand to Rally for a sniff, and enfolds Mel in a firm hug. "Have a safe trip. I suppose if you run into any bandits or wolves on the road, it'll be terrible news for them." He chuckles a bit as his wife plies you all with provisions for your trip. You depart his home as the sun is still rising...
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
The sun rises on the quiet community of Brookside, melting away the night's mists. The nearby river babbles peacefully, greeting the dawn along with a chorus of songbirds. The residents of Brookside look rested, as they begin emerging from their homes. Ready to face a new dawn, and let the griefs and trials of the past months begin to slide into the past -- not forgotten, but their sharp edges blunted by inexorable time. For now, at least, the world is at peace.
At the edge of town, three friends (and one small fox) walk through the steadily thinning mist. Their many trials have come to a close, leaving them with heart ache -- but also wiser and stronger than before. Ready to scatter in pursuit of new paths, or to find their ways back onto old ones.
But here, now, on this bright morning in the green fields and shaded glens surrounding Brookside, they will share one last road together on the way to the adventure that will be the rest of their lives.