“Child.”
I start and stop ashamed, halfway towards gripping my sword, which lays within reach. It’s a reflex that says a lot of me lately.
My things are on the bed in an orderly pile, ready to be stuffed into the saddlebags. Not much really, just three spare shirts, leggings and a clean coat. A couple of books and a small pouch with ointments and bandages.
The man leaning against the door frame wears the plain clothing of a cleric, yet something in his posture speaks otherwise, of someone used to carrying weapons. He frowns, and I feel as if his blue eyes weight me thoroughly, plucking every last fiber of my soul for careful inspection.
“I see you are preparing to leave.”
“I have to…” I finally dare to meet his eyes and memory stings sharply, to the very core of my being.
“You have made friends here. They are going north, towards Westwind Garrison. Vrykul attacks are worse in that area…”
“I cannot…” I wish I could bring myself to form full sentences. But it takes all my strength of will just to hold his gaze. Friends. We are alone and we die alone and the fight against the Scourge is all we have. I don’t want it to be like this, not really.
“You’ll be heading into Dragonblight, I suppose…”
I nod, reluctantly. It’s all I can do not to flinch under his intense scrutiny. He shakes his head in dismay.
“Haven’t you had enough of that madness? You’ve shown courage and great strength in the Light…why waste it so?”
Suddenly I find myself gaping – how could he know for sure? – then my fingers find instinctively that spot above my heart where I have been marked.
“At least you would not object at doing me a favor, child. I have messages that need to be delivered in Valiance Keep as soon as possible. I planned to send a courier, but you’ll do just fine. There’s a small settlement of natives, the Tuskarr to the east of the fjord…We have established good terms with them so you will be able to secure passage to another one of their ports, along the coast of Dragonblight, and from there to Borean Tundra.”
I have only met this man twice before, and he certainly does not know it….just another face in the crowd… But I remember wanting to be like him, a hero out of legend, even more so than Lord Uther the Lightbringer who to this day is revered as a saint. I know many other things about him…and he doesn’t know this either. Those blue eyes, so much like his son’s, are still measuring me… and then something snaps inside of me and unexpectedly I find myself fighting anguished sobs.
“Taelan was my friend”. It is not a lie. He was maybe the only friend I have ever had. And the same as me, all he wanted was to be like his father – even if he had grown up in his absence, believing him dead, as some many others did.
I blink back tears, recalling all those evenings me and Taelan have spent together walking along the walls of Mardenholde Keep.
Now he has understood too, but he does not ask for answers. Suddenly he’s holding me tightly and stroking my hair. I don’t know how he could have moved so fast and I cannot see his expression, but he shivers badly, almost as much as I do.
His son’s death is a wound that would never heal in this man’s soul. I can only guess he holds himself responsible for it…yet he had somehow found the strength to go on when honor was everything that was left to him. I will too. I must. I will not fail.
“Go”, he says after a while. “Go to New Hearthglen if you have to, child. I will pray for you to see the truth before it is too late.”
I know the truth, deep in my heart. Taelan did too. But I cannot prevent myself from going back, like a mote driven inexorably towards the flame. I am too afraid to accept change…and the fact that I am aware of it scares me even worse.
He lifts my chin so that he can look into my eyes and my knees melt…It’s different from Taelan’s gaze, and it does not give me those strange butterflies in the stomach – yet it helds the same shattering intensity.
“Just remember one thing. No one can take the Light away from you.”
And with that he leaves me, with a stack of letters I am supposed to carry over to Valiance Keep – and a small pouch, filled with coins. I believe he considers me smart enough to find the way to Borean Tundra on my own, provided the means I sit on the bed, still shaken and tears flow down my cheeks, maybe for the first time since my only friend died. I could watch Havenshire burn without weeping, but now I cannot stop. Something tickles at the back of my mind – a memory of words spoken times before by people who have died in their name.
Esarus thar no Darador. By blood and honor we serve.
“I know, Lord Fordring”, I whisper to the closed door, the empty walls of the room.
I look at my hands – they have held the Ashbringer and the Light did not strike me down for daring to call upon its powers. Well, not really. I am not strong enough to wield it and even the Light can burn one unworthy to act as vessel for such great a force.
Through tears, I cannot stop wondering whether my prayers have been finally answered. Maybe - just maybe - this is the sign I have been hoping for...
I start packing again.
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