Yara and Githeon sat around a campfire late at night. The stars above them, their faces only illuminated by the warm orange glow of their firepit. Yara had sunk into thought. About Thalan and Elric, and what they'd said about Arran.

  ‘Githeon, can we talk?’ she asked as she watched him sit down.

  ‘Sure, what about?’ he raised an eyebrow as he saw Yara sort of roll herself up into a ball. She pulled her knees close to her chest.

  ‘You remember back on Angalir when I told you I didn’t want to talk about who I lost?'

  Githeon nodded as he tended to their campfire. The fire jumped a little in size as he poked at the firewood.

  ‘Well it’s continuously come back to haunt me, losing that person I mean,’ said Yara, ‘When I talked with Elric he knew who I’d lost and he expressed his sympathy towards me.’

  ‘Well that’s lovely of him isn’t it?’ Githeon said, realising too late that she might've thought the opposite.

  ‘I don’t like constantly being reminded that he’s dead,' said Yara bluntly, 'I already know he is, isn't that enough?'

  Githeon looked into the fire, ‘Would you mind telling me who you lost?’

  Yara sighed, she really wanted to make herself even smaller than she already was. She didn't want to be there, didn't want to talk about it, but she had to, didn't she?

  ‘His name was Arran, he was my mentor, and he was like a father to me,’ where before there'd been nothing but deep sadness, Yara now felt emptiness when thinking about it instead. Nothing, just emptiness, and maybe just a little anger.

  ‘I’m so-,’ Githeon had to stop himself, ‘I see why Thalan or Elric might’ve mentioned him to you.’

  ‘They both knew him, probably for longer than I ever did, it hurts when you find out something like that,’ she said, 'like what I had with him, the man who was essentially my father, that it didn't last as long.'

  ‘Is that the reason you got so hot-headed when you told me to go home last time we talked about this?’

  Yara nodded, she was trying to stop herself from getting too emotional, 'Arran left and didn't come home, and now I'm here in a strange place with someone I barely know, pouring my saints-damned heart out.'

  ‘Well, if it helps, I don't mind being the person you barely know,' Githeon said, 'you can tell me, if you'd like?’

  ‘It’s worth a try,’ said Yara as she shifted where she sat, ‘I’m not sure what to start with though.’

  ‘So... how did he, you know... die?’ Githeon cut right to the chase, hitting her where he thought the issue lied.

  ‘He promised me that he’d see me again when I came back from my patrol around Anglavar, and when I did he wasn’t there,’ explained Yara, ‘Only a day later Laras came riding through the gate of Ashfallow’s hold, alone but with two horses.’

  ‘I’m assuming one of those was your mentor’s?’

  Yara nodded, 'Reed, stupid thing brought him everywhere except back to me,' she said, ‘Laras told me that Arran had gotten a tip about the dragon that’d killed his wife not a week after I left, and that he’d left immediately to go find it like the stubborn idiot he is.’

  ‘And that resulted in his death,’ said Githeon as he stared into the flames.

  ‘He killed it, but it envenomed him, he told Laras to give me his sword and to bury him at his old home. I couldn't even be there for his funeral,’ Yara continued to choke back tears, ‘I took Skycleave and hid to be on my own when Laras told me, I didn’t think I’d stop crying.’

  ‘You don’t blame him, Laras I mean, for what happened right?’

  ‘No, no I couldn’t,’ said Yara, a pit in her stomach. She loved that idiot, even if he didn't feel like he could love her back. She glanced at Githeon, ‘Laras broke the distance he put between himself and me just that once. He left me alone first, then came looking for me, offered to sit there with me while I cried,’ she poked the fire with a stick, ‘it’s not his fault that Arran was pig-headed and stubborn and terrible with promises.’

  ‘How about Arran himself, from the sound of it you blame him.’

  ‘I don’t, really,’ Yara replied, 'I understand why he did it.'

  ‘You called him pig-headed and stubborn.’

  ‘Because he was.’

  ‘So you’re blaming just those parts of him?’

  ‘I suppose I am... if he’d waited for me to come back we could’ve both hunted that dragon down together. I think... no I know for a fact that things would’ve ended better’

  ‘Or you would’ve just been there to watch him die,’ said Githeon, the audacity of what he’d said didn’t escape him. He stared right back at Yara who shot daggers at him.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I’m not-.’

  ‘You're implying I couldn't've saved him!?’

  ‘Let me finish.’

  ‘Fine,’ Yara crossed her arms, 'go on,' she’d balled her hands into fists but slowly relaxed them.

  ‘It’s easy to imagine that you could’ve saved someone you lost had you been there to help them but more often than not that’s not the case,’ said Githeon, ‘let’s say you succeeded, there’s no guarantee you yourself would’ve survived the encounter.’

  'Not the worst thing that could've happened.'

  'Do you honestly think Arran would've agreed with that.'

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  What he said gave her pause. In a sense he was right, if Arran got poisoned by the creature then she would’ve been just as likely to suffer the same fate as him.

  ‘I didn’t know Arran, nor will I ever, but based on what you've told me I’m willing to bet that if the roles had been reversed and you were the one that died he wouldn’t ever have forgiven himself,’ Githeon continued, ‘You’ve still been able to do a lot of good, maybe even because of what you’re going through.’

  Githeon’s words echoed in Yara’s head as she thought about them.

  ‘I... I guess you’ve got a point.’

  ‘You mentioned that everyone that mentions Arran seems to talk about him like they knew him for longer, right?’

  Yara agreed, 'it bothers me a lot.'

  ‘Can you tell me why that’s an issue for you?’

  ‘I only met him eleven years ago, but it feels like I should’ve known him for longer. Now that he's gone I can't spend more time with him,’ Yara said, 'until him and Laras no one really got me, you know?'

  ‘Is that also why you blew up at me over my being away from Aine?’

  Yara nodded, 'I think you should be there for her, she should know who you are and that you care for her,'

  ‘Well that makes sense, your only parental figure being absent would definitely eat away at you.’

  ‘I had an adoptive family, but I’ve always been a little odd in the head and they never tried to help or understand me. It was nice when someone came along and made an effort for me, just for me, instead of for the people around me,’ said Yara, ‘It makes you feel like they should’ve been there from the start to help you make sense of everything. Leaves a massive gaping hole when they're gone too.’

  ‘Having people remind you of the fact that he's not there anymore, I don't imagine it’d do anything to help you.’

  ‘It doesn’t. It just makes the hole bigger.’

  ‘I do hope you realise you can’t always get people to stop doing that.’

  ‘I figured,’ said Yara, ‘it’d be unreasonable of me to expect that, but saints do I wish I could.’

  'I understand that, difficult as that may be to believe.'

  'It is a little, but I'll try it.'

  ‘That’s good, you’ve put a step forward in this process,’ said Githeon, ‘if it’s okay with you, we should get some sleep.’

  ‘Sleep sounds good,’ Yara said as she laid down on her bedroll.

  ‘I hope I was able to help you at least a little.’

  Yara had already closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but she turned her head and looked at Githeon, ‘you did, thank you Githeon,’ she said, ‘good night.’

* * *

  The very next day they’d left camp early and travelled to the nearest village a few hours away. The town had a harbour that, along listing scheduled ferry departing times back to Angalir, was also a hub for local fishermen and traders. Yara looked through some of the stalls and their inventories. Occasionally she would indulge in a purchase she came across, mostly food that looked the most fresh out of what was there. She looked out over sea and back towards Angalir. Yara thought for a moment and sighed before she began to look for Githeon, who’d gone off to do his own thing. She found him talking to a group of older gentlemen who seemed to be locked into an argument, instead of interfering Yara found a nearby bench to sit on while she waited for him to finish. She looked out over the harbour and saw ferries anchoring themselves within the safety of the breakwater built to stop the waves from crashing into the town. The weather was calm for once. Talamh Fiaigh prone to just the worst weather. The grey skies giving way to clear blue ones was a rare but welcome sight. Yara sat there looking around her for a good while until Githeon was done with the conversation.

  ‘I only saw you just now,’ he said as he approached her, ‘I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.’

  ‘No, not too long,’ said Yara, somewhat absent-minded.

  ‘Something on your mind?’ asked Githeon, he sat down next to her and she scooched away from him on the bench. Yara continued to look out over the water and away from Githeon.

  ‘Kind of,’ she said, ‘Talamh Fiaigh’s been fun, but I think I’m getting homesick for Angalir.’

  ‘Is it just too different?’

  ‘Yes, but also no, it doesn’t help that I don’t understand a word anyone is saying.’

  ‘There’s ferries in port here, you should go get a ticket before they leave,’ said Githeon, ‘You’d have to wait much longer otherwise.’

  ‘I thought you’d tell me to wait.’

  ‘Why would I? I’m not the person who’s going to tell you what to do.’

  ‘Didn’t stop you before.’

  Githeon snickered, he looked at Yara who was still turned away from him, ‘I suppose that is my failing,’ he admitted, ‘I realised between then and now that I shouldn’t do that.’

  Yara turned her head, ‘what will you be doing once I’m gone?’

  ‘Someone once told me to go back home and spend time with my daughter before it’s too late,’ said Githeon with a slight smirk on his face, Yara saw and laughed a little.

  ‘Wise words from that person,’ said Yara, ‘It’s from experience I bet,’ she stood up and turned to Githeon, who she thanked for his help and company, after which she returned to her horse and left him behind.

  ‘Well Helena,’ said Yara to her mount, ‘how does Yilgra sound to you?’