Very few people ever consider what happens after someone you were close with dies. There were many formal processes to go through from preserving the body, locating next of kin, hiring transport to have them moved to their home, and many smaller conversations with interested parties who think they can provide some kind of sympathy that will earn them points in my book. Frankly, I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs at anyone who approached me with a conversation that wasn’t immediately about the well-being of Holdrem’s body.
I had to deal with the local coroner for several hours as he questioned me about the nature of Holdrem’s death and collected any evidence he could from his body. Having to relive that moment, in detail, was a drain on my energy, but if it helped make sure that those involved never saw the light of day again, then I would endure it. After he had collected statements from everyone in my group, he completed the inquiry and provided a certificate of death to the morgue.
Speaking of my interactions with the morgue, they were thankfully quick and to the point. They cleared the use of preservatives with me to keep him from rotting while in their custody or during transport. His military records provided them with most of the other information they needed, such as where to send him for his final resting place. The town that had rescued him when he was a child would receive his body, and those that knew him would then take it from there. I hoped that they would bury him in his old village, regardless of if it was still destroyed or not.
I was allowed to see him one last time. They had cleaned up the blood and did what they could to close the wounds and make him appear normal. It was almost like he was sleeping, though, I guess they do call it the eternal rest for a reason.
The pain returned anew, stabbing at my chest like a hundred needles. Holdrem and I may have argued and bickered to no end more often than not, but those memories were always tinged with warmth whenever they came to mind. Some might say that you can’t truly call someone a friend until you have a big argument and then go out drinking with them the next day. We poked and prodded even at the best of times, but at the end of the day, we respected each other.
I was already missing him. No one else would even call me out for my snide remarks in the direction of the divine. I could already tell that the next time I made one, I would be waiting for him to say something, even when he wasn’t there. That realization practically crushed my heart under its weight.
With a shuddering breath, I placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder before speaking in a low voice. “Things will be different when you get back, I promise. I’ll make sure your next life will be better than this one.”
I broke the connection, cementing this as our final interaction. When they took his body away to prepare him for his last journey, I could do nothing but watch them go. It honestly felt like they were ripping a part of me away; stretching until it eventually severed with a snap the moment they moved out of sight.
Everything felt hollow. I honestly didn’t know what to do next. The logical part of my mind said that I should try to get some work done while there was still light out today. However, when I thought about that, or tried to move with the intent of following through on the plan, my body refused to do anything. My limbs became lead, my thoughts, fog. Nothing felt like it mattered. So, with no clear direction, I shuffled my way out of the morgue and back towards the lodge.
I don’t remember anything about the trip back. It was all just a haze of colors and sounds in my head. Only after reaching the lodge and entering the warm interior did I begin to process what was around me again.
My friends were with me, save Velian, who was still recovering, and I suppose Dart, who disappeared soon after the reports were handed in. I doubted I would see him again unless something else happened.
Everyone received some medical attention after the situation was resolved, so there was hardly any sign of fighting left on them. They were all maintaining an air of professionalism, not outwardly showing any significant emotion. However, I could see in their eyes that they were feeling just as hurt as I was. It was a look that we shared, mirrored in all our stares.
Otar looked around, made sure that no one else was in sight or could possibly see us, and then broke character to reach over and put a hand on my shoulder. It was a quiet moment of solidarity, just something to let me know that they were still there to support me even if they couldn’t openly show it. I managed a small smile with a nod of my head to him in acknowledgement. It was all I could manage as words seemed beyond any of us at that moment.
I pulled away after a moment and Otar returned to his normal stance. With nothing else to distract me, I went to my room, where I found Kala, seemingly waiting for me to arrive. She also had that same look in her eyes, only hers were also tinged with concern for me as well.
Kala was quick to rise from the bed where she was sitting and move to embrace me. I reciprocated the hug, pulling her close and holding her there, just trying to chase away some of the misery. We must have stayed like that for close to a minute before she finally said something in a voice just louder than a whisper.
“What do you want to do?”
It was such a simple question that held an immense challenge inside of it. Maybe there was something I could do to vent my feelings. I could hit something. Rant and rave to the heavens above at the top of my lungs. But I didn’t feel like doing any of that.
“Nothing,” I replied honestly.
Kala accepted my answer for what it was and removed herself from the hug just enough for her to take me by the hand and escort me to the bed. At her prompting, I laid down and situated myself properly. She followed me into the embrace of the soft mattress, slotting herself perfectly in my half-curled form as the little spoon. I put my arm around her midriff, and she grabbed hold of the limb like it was a lifeline.
I felt her hands running gently over the surface of my arm, feeling my hair that she always seemed so fascinated with. For me, though, it was a calming feeling. The subtle back and forth motion across my skin was filled with tenderness that could only come from someone who cared deeply for you.
It made me feel somewhat better, even though a cloud of malaise hung in the air still. This recent turn of events was simply exhausting for everyone. I don’t think it would be seen as improper to just take a day to mourn. Fighting through sadness rarely ever works anyway. Sometimes, just lying there and being sad for a while can do more for you than one might think.
We were allowed to do this for about an hour before there was a knock on the door. Not wanting to move, I simply answered from my position on the bed, “What is it?”
Ulthises’ voice replied to me, “My lord, Velian was cleared by the healer and has returned.”
“Oh, well that’s good.” I let out a quiet sigh when I realized that would mean that I needed to get up. “We should probably welcome him back then.” Kala merely hummed in agreement as she shuffled out of bed first.
We moved together to the door and were greeted by Ulthises, who waited at attention for us to arrive. After that, our group made the short trip to the lobby where Velian was currently being surrounded by the larger bodies of Jorn, Otar, and Hargon, nearly suffocating the smaller man as they welcomed him back. Our entry into the room caused a shift in tone as they moved into their professional demeanor once more.
I was disappointed, and a little annoyed at the forced social norms again. I wanted to be a part of the welcome back party too, but even semi-public casual interactions with the rest of my group were not allowed. There was a not so small part of me that wanted to just say ‘fuck it’ and give my friend a hug. But needs must, and I opted for a more restrained interaction.
“Welcome back, Velian. I’m happy to see that you are feeling better after all that. Blows to the head are no joke.”
“Thank you, sir. I’m glad to be back,” he said with a smile. Only, there was something off about it. His smile felt... plastic. Something was bothering him; I could feel it.
“Hey, are you feeling alright?” My question was met with a blank stare for a moment. His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but then he seemed to swallow whatever it was. That just about confirmed my suspicions. “You know what, why don’t we go to the meeting room and have a private conversation.” I only received a nod in response, but that was enough for me to move.
After we had entered and locked the door behind us, I let everyone get into a comfortable position before starting the conversation again. “So, what’s eating you?”
The look on Velian’s face morphed a few times, moving between pain, sadness and then finally settling on shame. That last expression was the most surprising to me as I didn’t know why he felt that way. He was quick to clarify for me though as he began to let what he was carrying off his chest.
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“I’m sorry. It’s my fault. I’m not as strong as everyone else, and I'm holding you back. Kala got kidnapped, everyone was fighting for their lives, Holdrem died, and I was unconscious, beaten over the head before I could even draw my sword. If anyone else had been there, if it wasn’t me, then maybe it wouldn’t have happened, maybe you all could have stopped it.”
He was descending into a well of self-blame, unfounded in my opinion, but he didn’t see it that way. It was true that Nactren weren’t exactly the strongest of the races in the world. Their biology was more geared towards speed, stealth, and darkness. I needed to act before he started developing an inferiority complex.
“Alright, that’s enough of that, Velian. You can’t blame yourself for being hit over the head first, anyone could have been. That’s a weakness that we all share, and you can’t overlook that. Second, I didn’t ask you to come with me for your strength. I asked you because I trust you, all of you. There’s no one else I would rather have watching my back than my friends. This whole situation has just been one long chain of catastrophes for all of us. But, as a team, we each share some level of blame for this situation just as we all contribute towards our successes.”
I took a deep breath that came out as a sigh before continuing. “There are things that I could have done if I simply had some inkling of what was to come. But I didn’t, and neither did you. We all wish we could have done something more; we all regret the possibilities that existed. You’re not alone in this, so don’t heap all the blame onto yourself.”
The look on his face changed again, morphing from shame to deep disappointment. “I just... I wanted to do something. Waking up and being told that all of that happened while I was unconscious.” He shook his head. “Maybe I would have felt better if I had just participated even a little bit, been a part of the plan to rescue Kala and get justice for Holdrem.”
That I could understand, and I nodded to show as much. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t have joined us. If things had progressed just a bit slower, then I would have loved to have you with us. Things hardly ever go the way you want them to, though.”
“That is, unfortunately, a very true statement.” Velian admitted.
The silence that emerged in between our conversations was filled by the others who came to console Velian with their presence. Hargon approached and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “We don’t think any less of you, Velian. It was a bad situation that none of us had any control over.”
Velian sighed. “I know, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating.”
“We’re no less frustrated,” Otar spoke up. “All of us are carrying that same feeling of ‘maybe I could have done more.’” The group nodded in agreement with him.
I jumped back in to hopefully resolve things in a healthy way. “We all need time to process this and get our heads right. I think it would be best if we just took the day off and recovered a bit. Tomorrow we can get back to work, but for now, sort out what's in your head.”
Everyone nodded in understanding, signaling the end of this meeting. We returned to our rooms, and I followed my own advice for the most part. I did take some time to chisel out the runes on the crystal more. Boredom sort of got to me after a few hours and working with my hands helped to calm my thoughts for a little while.
I knew I was going to be depressed for a while, but surprisingly enough, I actually found comfort in the knowledge that Holdrem’s soul was still around and currently in the care of the goddess. If what they believed in the predominant religion was true, then he could live again, someday, in a new body. That all depends on the goddess though, and frankly I was skeptical about everything regarding her. My gaze ended up drifting off into a thousand-yard stare in the direction of the sky.
You better be taking good care of him, or I swear I'll punch you in the face again. There was no way of knowing if my silent threat was heard or not, but considering that she is omniscient, and likely paying close attention to me, I'd say that the odds were good.
At the very least, no one decided to bother us for the rest of the day. We were allowed to spend our day resting and preparing to reenter society. We had fought, we had lost, we had killed, and we emerged wounded but ultimately victorious. That was a lot to process for anyone who wasn’t completely broken on the inside.
The next day was a difficult one. It started with the notification that transportation for Holdrem’s body had been arranged and would be leaving just after breakfast. That news cast a rather somber mood over our morning. They said they would wait for us before departing so that we could see Holdrem off, but we still moved with grim purpose so as not to delay this any longer than need be.
We were on the way to the morgue as they were picking Holdrem up from there first. The cart was in front of the building as we approached, and I could even see the long rectangular box that was quietly seated in the back. Seeing the casket brough up a fresh wave of emotions in me, and I choked down some of the more powerful ones in order to maintain my composure.
The driver of the cart, who was a Nactren, noticed us and gave a brief nod to our group in acknowledgement. “I take it that you are the ones that I’ve been waiting for?”
“If you are the man who is transporting Holdrem, then yes.”
“Aye, Trelnval man, right? I’m sorry for your loss.” I didn’t deem the condolences worthy of a verbal response, so I elected to just dip my head a little in appreciation for the sentiment at least. “So, are you ready to go then? I heard that you wanted to escort me out of the city at the very least.”
The question was simple, yet heavy all the same. I took a breath to prepare myself before answering his question in a voice that was obviously troubled. “Yes, we’re ready.”
The driver, feeling the solemn mood, grunted a bit before making a gesture to the back of his cart. “You can ride with him, then, until we reach the city limits.”
Well, that was kind of him. We would have had to keep an awkward pace in order to walk alongside the cart. All of us mounted up one by one, taking a seat on either side of the casket that was laying in the middle. Without fail, all of our eyes fell on the wooden box and remained there, even when the cart started moving. It was as if we had all fallen under some sort of spell that commanded our attention.
A deep impenetrable silence fell over us as we rode down the street. For all purposes, this was a funeral procession, though we were regrettably unable to attend the lowering of the casket into its final resting place. That was one thing that I would probably regret, but this was the most I could afford to do without putting lives at risk.
We soon passed underneath the gatehouse after a quick word with the guards as to our intent. They were understanding of our plight and agreed to allow us to make this quick trip out before letting us return. The cart traveled for a fair distance down the road with us still in the back, at least until we were far enough away that any people around the gate looked tiny. I think we were all loath to admit that we needed to stop. Nobody wanted to be the one to finalize the separation.
Eventually my hand was forced, and with a sigh I addressed the driver. “Please stop here. We’ll be getting off now.” The driver gave me a nod before tugging on the reigns, commanding the horses to halt.
With varying levels of grim faces, my party dismounted the cart and moved to the side of the road. The driver looked down on us from atop his seat before sharing some parting words. “I am truly sorry for your loss. May your fortunes balance favorably in the future, and may the gods watch over you.”
He then turned to spur the horses forward once more, and my group did something I was not expecting. Everyone but Kala and I stood straight before throwing up a salute, like they were standing at attention for an officer. I was a little caught off-guard by the sudden display of respect but rallied myself quickly to show my own. A salute didn’t feel right for me. I never really considered myself a soldier, so I instead went with closing my eyes and bowing my head respectfully.
The cart continued to move further away from us. The soft clopping of hooves on trodden dirt accompanied the ever-quieter sound of creaking wood as the driver took Holdrem’s body further away from us. As the sounds became distant, I finally opened my eyes and lifted my head once more to see the little wooden transport slowly shrinking into the distance.
I looked at my companions on either side of me as they stared forlornly down the road. It already felt like something was missing, and I knew that the feeling likely would never truly go away. Perhaps that meant that he would always be around, in a way. It was poor comfort, but any amount of it was preferable to this crushing feeling in my chest.
We maintained our position until we lost sight of them completely as they moved behind the landscape. That was it, there was nothing left for us out there. With downtrodden eyes we marched our way back towards the city. As we approached the gate once more, we corrected our various states of gloom into something more professional. We had a job to do, after all.
The day was normal, at least, until after lunchtime. It seemed the hits would just keep on coming today as a rider came tearing into town on horseback. While my group was not present to hear the barker as he went through the streets, it quickly became the talk of the town. Yol’vastume was under siege.
There were positives and negatives to this news. For one thing, those who knew of our occupation of Yol’vastume became incensed. They were wondering if there was going to be a response from their leaders and why they hadn’t already sent troops. It seemed to have lit a fire in people, and that fire was starting to burn the asses of those who were sitting on their hands.
However good that may have been for me and my mission, that did mean that everyone we knew there was currently fighting for their lives. It wasn’t just today, either. That rider probably took around two days of straight galloping in order to cover the distance between us and them. The noose had begun to close and our window of opportunity for retaliation was shrinking.
That wasn’t even all the important news for the day. Apparently, this recent fiasco with Adder was such a stain in the ledger of the church that they felt the need to call in the big guns. The Blessed Child, this worlds equivalent of a pope, was coming to the city to adjudicate the trial they were planning for him. If it wasn’t for the fact that another extremely powerful and influential figure was showing up to possibly ruin my day, I might have actually felt bad for Adder. This wasn’t going to be pretty, and I had a feeling that it would only be ending in one way.
There was a convergence of events that was quickly coming to a head. I needed to resolve them as quickly as possible in order to ensure that the soldier in Yol’vastume survive, and ultimately, that the coalition itself doesn’t collapse. No pressure, obviously.
I needed to finish the weapon and present it to the council sooner rather than later. There may need to be some corners cut, safety features forgone. I was already cringing imagining just how painful this thing was going to be.
The Blessed Child was also a wild card being thrown into the mix. It wouldn’t matter if my theological ranking was technically higher than anyone else in the church. If she didn’t like me, that would hurt my influence quite significantly. People would favor an established voice such as her own over that of a newcomer like me.
Headaches and sleepless nights were in my future, and I didn’t need to be a prophet to see that. All I could do was hope that logic and innovation would prevail. If not, then things would become more complicated than they already were.