Cyrus embraces me. I was never into hugging other dudes but it feels appropriate now and we hold each other for a long moment before letting go. He throws a big grin across his angular face and I motion to the table. We sit down and the elf servant fetches more tea.
I have a servant now. I should probably pause to appreciate that for a moment. Since it’s kind of crazy and all.
“How are you feeling, Ethan?” the cleric asks me collegially.
I lean over to him. “I was about to ask you the same thing. I’m sorry I didn’t check on you sooner.”
The cleric leans back in his chair. “Oh, I dunno. From what I hear you’ve been keeping quite busy.”
I take a deep a breath and exhale slowly. “That’s for sure.”
He puts his elbow on his chair and cups his hand in it. “So tell me about it then.”
I laugh. “But I wanted to talk about you!”
The cleric shrugs. “Alright then, Ethan. What do you wanna know about me?”
“Are you ok? After the battle with the dryad? Are you injured?”
The cleric straightens in his seat. “Oh, you wanna talk about that little old thing?”
I practically pop out of my chair. “Little old thing? We practically died out there!”
The cleric extends a finger. “Yes. But we didn’t.”
“But we almost did!”
The cleric sighs. “Ethan, if you are always focused on what might have been then you will never succeed where you are.”
I groan. “I hate trite wisdom.”
“You’ll love having me around then. I am both trite and wise.”
“So you’re sticking with me then?” I ask, ignoring the verbal jab.
The cleric squints at me. “Sticking with you? Where else would I go?”
“I dunno. I was afraid…” I pause unsure how to continue.
“You were afraid I wouldn’t be able to continue. That I would be dismembered or just laid out on some healer’s table somewhere.”
“I just didn’t know,” I say defensively. “And I was worried.”
“Well, I appreciate your concern,” the cleric continues calmly. “I nearly got chopped-up out there. And my leg certainly did.”
He looks down at his right calf and I follow his gaze. It’s only then I notice the bulg of bandages beneath his robes.
“How bad is it?” I ask.
“Cut to the bone. Couldn’t walk for days. These elven healers though. They know a thing or two about herbs and flowers.”
I nod vigorously. “That they do. My elf was brilliant, if a little crazy.”
“Hmm. It wasn’t Glaryth by chance was it?”
I bang the table with my fist. “Yes, you got it. How’d you know?”
“Well, he came to see me just yesterday, went on and on about this ‘brave warrior’ he helped. As well as some joke he made about womens breasts. Said it was hilarious.”
I roll my eyes. “Awkward is more like it. But whatever. He did me a lot of good so he can make hokey boob jokes all he wants.”
Cyrus grasps his chin with his hand. “Yes, I’m inclined to agree.”
“So you’re better now, then? Excepting the leg of course.”
Cyrus shrugs. “As well as can be expected.”
“How’d you get back? How did we get back I should ask. I just woke-up in Elfdom.”
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Cyrus nods, considering. “Well, we you destroyed the dryad, as you may know.”
I smile thinly. “Yes, I do remember that part. Couldn’t have done it without you by the way.”
Cyrus raises an invisible tea cup in acknowledgement. Then the elf servant returns with actual tea and he repeats the gesture with a full cup. I return it in kind.
“Afterwards, most everyone sorta just laid there, Ethan. Myself included. I think Myran was in the best shape as I saw him kinda just wondering around. I called out to him and he eventually snapped out of his daze.”
I interrupt. “You asked Myran for help?”
Cyrus takes a sip of tea. “I did, though I did not know at the time what he’d done to you. Still, even if I had, I was desperate at that point.”
“Fair enough.”
“Also, and we can talk more about this later, but I think it may be wise to be charitable to our betrayer.”
I nearly spit out my tea. “Yes, I think we do need to get to that later.”
“Fair enough,” Cyrus says with a smile. “Anyway, whatever animosity you harbor toward him, you should also know that Myran kept us alive out there. He dressed our wounds, hunted for food in the forest, even looked after your faithful horse until the elves arrived. He could have just let us bleed out and die.”
I sip my tea quietly. It’s a commendable, but still, he tried to kill me, and I’m not sure what to say. So I focus on a smaller point.
“He gathered food from the forest?”
Cyrus nods. “With the help of your animal friends. I don’t know how they knew but those creatures showed Myran the proper plants, and he even cooked one of the dead pigs one night as I slipped in and out of consciousness.”
“I’m king of glad I was unconscious,” I say quietly.
“Yes, apparently concussions do have their advantages.”
I sigh. “So I guess you’re saying that even though Myran tried to kill me, I also owe him my life.”
Cyrus sips his tea. “I am.”
I’m quiet for a while. Thinking. “I’m not sure,” I start and stop. “I just don’t know.”
Myran holds-up his hand. “It’s not something we have to address right now. Would you like to see your horse?”
I perk-up. “Dauntless. He’s ok?”
Cyrus raises from his seat. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I want to charge out the door but Cyrus makes me walk at a more normal pace as we head over to the stables. I wear a long robe and use a hood to cover my face. I’d like to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It may be hard with my newfound celebrity but at least I’m not in one of those luxurious wheelhouses. Elves likely don’t expect big name heroes to be just casually strolling with the general populace.
On our way I talk to him about my own adventure at the Tower of Magi, though I obviously leave out the more intimate stuff with the princess.
No indeed for anyone to share in embarrassment over that particular issue.
“Hmm,” Cyrus rumbles thoughtfully. “It seems that our journey will be longer than I hoped.”
“Yeah, it’s not going to be as simple as just arriving with a giant elven army at our back.”
I can’t help but think back to the demon, and the easy victory I gave-up. Ugh, why does laugh have to be so hard?
“Well,” says the cleric, “I’m sure that whatever it takes, it will be for the best.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Would you maintain that stoic attitude if you were still bleeding out on the field of battle.”
“We are all going to die, Ethan. And while I have no wish to rush into my own demies neither do I fear it.”
“Well, I guess you are a cleric after all then,” I say a bit grumpily.
I’m sure as hell afraid to die. And don’t feel stoic about it in the slightest.
The stable for the royal horses is in clearing of sorts, a place where the elves have combined manic logging efforts with their best attempt at growing grass in an environment unused to rolling plains and lush meadows.
“It’s worth it though,” the stable master tells me. “We still need horses for our roads and especially for life outside the wood. So we do the best we can.”
As usual with the elves, the ‘best we can’ is still pretty damn good. As most of the horses I see look well fed, well trained, and in good condition. The magiest one is I’m most interested in though.
“Dauntless!” I race to the edge of the fence and shout to my loyal steed.
“Sire!” Dauntless is so happy to see me practically jumps over the fence.
“Woah, easy there boy,” I say with a wide grin.
“Sire, it is so good to see you again! I was deathly afraid you wouldn’t make it. Even after the elves arrived you were still unconscious.”
I laugh. “Well, I was afraid for you buddy. I was afraid I asked too much of you out there on the field of battle.”
Dauntless neighs defiantly. “Never, sire! There is no challenge too great for an Astrian warhorse!”
I very much doubt that but am not going to be the one to dull Dauntless’s enthusiasm. Cyrus stands to the side smiling at us both. I sometimes wonder what a fool I must look like, treating my horse almost like he’s a human or elf, but it’s totally worth it for these conversations. Screw the light rays and dark ribbons, to my mind speaking animals is the best gift I have received.
“So you’re doing alright then, Dauntless?”
“Sire, my wounds are just a small blemish on your incredible victory.”
“Our victory,” I correct him. “I couldn’t have done it without you buddy,”
I hug his neck as he nuzzles my cheek.
“Where to next then, sire? A dragon that needs slaying perhaps?”
I laugh. “In a way I guess. If by dragon you mean some very powerful elves to appease.”