George and Lestra rushed onto the dirt road which rolled through the fields. They followed it to the main seal of Meriford, which appeared just as humble as the ancient hole they emerged from, and just as humble as George remembered from the day he had been transported to Telora. George moved the seal out of the way as he had seen the merchant do, then took a deep breath.

He jumped. Knowing what to expect helped little to brace himself for the rapid slide. The rush of excitement and terror followed him the same until he reached the pool at the end.

The pool soothed him instantly. He opened his eyes underwater. Around him, the smooth light cast a bluish void as if he floated in the sky- a cloudy day, the blue was faint and steely.

Even as Lestra screamed on her way down, even as she splashed through his sanctum, he relaxed. They had made it. He floated up and took a large heave in of the Meriford air and with it caught its flavor. A lake. Though weak, and he hadn’t truly noticed it before, it filled his memories of the underground city. And it was its weakness which made it distinct. At the chasm on the other side of the dam, though similar, the scent had been violent, wrought with overgrowth and decay. Here, it was soft.

Goerge and Lestra swam to the end of the pool and lifted themselves out. The morning keepers in their white robes met them and began the drying process. With the water, the dirt and grime which had layered itself upon them lifted off their clothes and skin and coalesced into brown and grey orbs. The morning keepers proceeded to splash the two orbs onto the ground to be cleaned by some sweeper in the night. What they couldn’t lift from George and Lestra were the scars. The scratches on George’s body shone bright red through his clear, pale skin, and the tears in his clothes spurned its reacquired structure. And for the first time, he was able to focus on the same of Lestra. A gash in the fine green fabric of her skirt ruined its upside-down tree pattern. Her pale hair was ragged- faded instead of glowing. And her knees were blistered, badly. Through it all, letting him lean on her for support, wandering near blind through miles of cavern, she had been stilted on joints which were mashed into a dark purple. Yet even then, she did not tremble.

George wondered if he should say something. A quick ‘thank you,’ or an ‘I appreciate it.’ But she seemed to pay even less mind to her condition then he did, keeping her smile. It wasn’t as fragile. Not anymore. He didn’t want to take her back to all of it so soon. Now was a time for relief. Relief at last.

Before George could smile as Lestra did, from the corner of his eye, he caught something different about the passageway to the bridge. It was shuttered with barricades. As he turned his head to see what blocked the path, he caught the glare of a guard- guards. He focused into the dark passageway, and a full garrison, clad in armor, started to reveal itself.

Lestra did not wait, and once the last hair on her head was dry, she walked over to the garrison.

“Halt!” the guard in the front said. He had a deep voice. “Under Commander Morris’ orders, visitors must be properly vetted before entering the city.” Paying no mind to the bruises on the two individuals, he recited the hostile greeting. He glanced at Lestra’s ears. “That includes elves.”

“We aren’t visitors,” Lestra said. She centered her head and straightened herself so that she wasn’t just talking to the guard. “This is our home.”

George finally shared her smile, hearing her call Meriford home. It wasn’t natural; he saw her break before saying it, and gulp after. But it was said, and it was said defiantly. He recalled what he had told her when it looked like she wouldn’t be able to continue. We’ll get back at the ones who did this. Perhaps she didn’t interpret that as only the graldor. Honoring her late father- and mother’s wishes. That would be how she got back at the ones who divided the elven world from everything else and amongst themselves.

An elf calling Meriford her home was a surprise even to the guard. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he was seeing her ears correctly, then grunted. “The city’s been under curfew since the attack. What were you doing out?”

“It’s only been a few days,” another guard spoke up. “They probably left just before it took place.” He had a higher pitched voice than the other guard, which along with him offering them some benefit of the doubt, made him seem friendlier.

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“We were part of a mission,” George said. “After the burrow worm attacked, a messenger from Ardel claimed they were attacked. We were sent to verify it but got separated from our group.”

The guards whispered to each other then looked back to the two people who had entered. “Was this done under guild or local supervision?” the deep-voiced guard asked.

“I don’t believe that distinction has ever been asked before,” Lestra said a bit frustrated and a bit confused.

George shared Lestra’s sentiments. He hadn’t heard of a distinction like that because they weren’t supposed to be on equal terms. The way he understood it, the guild’s authority should have superseded anything done by the local council. Even the guards, those who reported to Morris, should have been under the guild. The guards looked bothered by Lestra’s assertion. Even the friendly-seeming guard started to scowl. “Guild,” George said to prevent too much of a bad impression from seeping in.

“Then we’ll take you to their headquarters and check your claims,” the deep-voiced guard said.

“If you try to get away before then, or if your story cannot be verified, you will be detained until your purpose, and who you work for, can be determined, at which point the proper punishment will be administered.”

The garrison continued on into Meriford. The bridge had been cleared of the refugees from the wealthy shore, and in their place, between the hooded statues, more guards stood. The streets themselves were as lively as ever, but tucked in the shadows between the stone structures, soldiers cast long stares. Their arrival to the guild headquarters was similar to that in Ardel, escorted by soldiers who treated them as strangers.

Inside, under the ever-burning white of the light crystals, faces lit up at their sight. Donald jumped up and rushed over to them, giving both a tight hug. Andrew was there as well- he stood back, tilting his head slightly up to showcase a grin. Even the smile of the woman at the desk, Lanne, seemed a tad more genuine.

The deep-voiced guard cleared his throat to draw attention. “These two claim-”

“They’re with the guild.” Lanne answered before the guard could finish.

With conformation, the soldiers around George and Lestra backed away. The deep-voiced guard gave one last stern look at them before slinking off with the others.

“Where did you two go?” Donald asked. “We thought you were dead. I mean, it may be too soon for me to discount that possibility.” Donald inspected their worn physiques. “You aren’t zombies, are you?”

Lestra marched past him, up to Lanne. “The graldor have destroyed Vaaliya,” she said.

“W-what?” Having overheard her, Donald glanced through their battered states with new perspective.

“What do you mean destroyed?” Lanne asked, sinking her lips.

George put himself in front of Lestra so that she wouldn’t have to be the one to recount all of it. Everyone kept quiet as he told her about what they had gone through, their trek through the graldor tunnel, the war camp, and what they saw at Vaaliya. “Algor. That was his name,” he said that part softly. He had debated whether or not he was going to say it at all, but knew that he had too. No matter what excuses he made, of it being integral information, he knew that it was an admission of inferiority. And he knew that was why he said it. He said it because the general still haunted him. It didn’t matter how little sense it made that Algor could know whether or not he said his name, that he could pursue him if he didn’t. George was scared.

“I should have been there,” Donald said. “Maybe things could have been different.”

George shook his head. They couldn’t. Donald or not, things would’ve ended the same.

“That doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have had to go through that while I just waited here.”

“He did wait here,” Andrew said. “He did good job of it too. To be honest, I’m lucky I could have been here when you came back. I was just checking in today. But he remained the entire time. He’s a good one. You’re lucky to have someone on your squad that would wait for you like that after just a few weeks together.”

“Waiting did nothing,” Donald spurned the compliment. “They would have come back regardless. I’m just not strong enough.” He turned to George and Lestra. “I couldn’t do anything useful while you were gone. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t bring myself to think about anything other than my worries.”

“It’s ok,” George said. “You did the right thing. The sensible thing.”

“No. I- we thought we were following you. If we had known you were going through the graldor tunnel-”

“That was sensible,” Lestra said. “What I did was reckless. But I did have to do it.”

George recognized Donald’s demeanor, his slanted brows. He had been the same when they got back from their mission in the lake. George had done a poor job consoling him then. He sighed. “I never once wished you had come with us. You being safe helped. Waiting for us, not foolishly putting yourself in danger, it did help. You gave us another reason we needed to make it back.”

Donald nodded. “I’ll do better. Next time, I won’t just make sure I’m safe. I’ll make sure all of you are.”

With the matter resolved for now, Lanne looked intently on George and Lestra. There was something she needed to know. “What happened to the kine stone?”