Lorday, 4 Drannym, 1007 KR
“People come here when they’re ready to die.”
“You weren’t ready, Rye,” Ceph said.
“Maybe I was. Maybe you weren’t.”
Lorday, 4 Drannym, 1007 KR
“People come here when they’re ready to die.”
“You weren’t ready, Rye,” Ceph said.
“Maybe I was. Maybe you weren’t.”
Byrday, 10 Drannym, 1007 KR
“Ye hear there’s an elven ship in port?”
“Royalty, I heard.”
“What’re they doin’ here? Star-addled buggers. This ain’t there land, it’s never been. Throw ’em out, I say.”
Nael stumbled over a chord change, and took a break. A delegation in Theore. Times were changing too fast. Memories still too fresh.
Uunday, 19 Drannym, 1007 KR
“You say death’s the start of the next part of the journey,” Lona said to Ceph as he poured her drink. “What’s the next part?”
Ceph looked at her. It may have been the most she’d ever said to him. “The myths say you wander the Shadowrealm under Zelrhea’s rule.”
“Ever wandering, but ever at peace—yes. What if you don’t make it there?”
Ceph glanced at her, glanced away. “That’ll be twelve greens.”
She couldn’t know—could she? Couldn’t know that Azrael had come, but Cain hadn’t? That every day he wondered why Rye was still here?