Epilogue

The great staircase strained his legs, but thankfully, the years had been kind to him. Despite the gray hair around his temples and the deep lines around his eyes, his body was still far stronger than many young men. The day at least was young and the air fresh, and he found the early morning climb invigorating.

At the top, the forest stretched out before him like a patchwork quilt, and sunlight filtered down through the canopy as he made his way among the tall trees.

He’d thought his adventures were far behind him, but when he reached his sixtieth year, he felt a restlessness in his spirit that grew with every passing year. Standing on the Long Hill at the twin graves of his one true love and his best friend, he promised that he would return when he had stilled the ache in his heart.

His journey took him away from the comforts of his life and drew him back out into the wilds of Parthanea. He traveled to the far north, to the Lost Coast, and then to the home of the witches, visiting his companions and revisiting the adventures of their youth. But still, the restlessness continued to prickle at him, so he entered the red land of the Echo, traveling that poor blasted land, searching for whatever purpose whispered to him. Finally, he found the place between worlds and called on ancient debts to enter the abyssal plane, becoming the first mortal to do so freely.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

Everywhere he went, he encountered injustices and evil and used his gifts to give hope to those in need of it. In quiet taverns, palaces, villages, and towns, among the elves, the dwarves, and the Faelen, he left scattered stories in his path that whispered of days gone by when bold champions had roamed the land and gods had given all of their power and sacrificed themselves to remove a great evil from the world.

Still he walked, until finally he returned to the wilds of the moral realm, trusting his instincts to guide him, like a plant gently turns to follow the passage of the sun across the sky or a searching root delves to seek moisture deep in the earth.

He hadn’t dared to hope where his faith would lead him, and after many years, he was here, and his heart hammered in his chest.

The forest had grown wild in the absence of its guardian, and in the shadowed depths, creatures watched him warily. Trails that thousands had walked in hope, searching for healing, were now overgrown, and he called on an ancient power that remained to him to clear a pathway before him.

In the middle of the forest, he found a glade that nurtured a clear pool of water—the remnants of what had once been a great shimmering lake.

At the water's edge, Konrad fell to his knees and wept tears of happiness, for in the center of the pool was the first green shoot of a new tree, twisting gracefully out of the water.

“You told my story, Konrad, and they believed,” Lyran whispered.