Myra got up from where she was kneeling. The quiet forest glade bathed in midday light. She had already paid her respects, but it warmed her to be here on her own. She looked up at the pale, wooden effigy. A grave marker, and a monument.

The Tree had been dug up. At Erda’s request, they had taken its trunk and carved the likeness of Erasmus of it. Myra was delightfully surprised at the skill with which the carvers had captured Erasmus’ likeness. With the remaining wood, they built Erasmus’ funeral pyre. His ashes were now buried beneath the effigy.

Were once Myra had wept, she now smiled. She had not said goodbye, she felt no need for it.

“Your body might be dead,” she muttered. “But I loved you for your Heart. That… that can never die.”

There was an awkward cough behind her. Pike was there, a tattered, bedraggled ruffian.

“Pike? I thought you were…”

He nodded. “Dead? So did I…” he shuffled his feet.

“What happened?”

Pike briefly explained the episode at the river. “Unless he becomes a fish and starts biting ankles, that bastard won’t be any more harm to anyone.” He looked up at the effigy. “Is that..?”

“It was carved from the Tree… Erda’s Tree.”

“How… how is she?”

“Grieved” Myra admitted. “But not brought low. Both the Tree… and Erasmus, on top of everyone else we lost. Her hearts been pulled and torn every which way. But she’s stronger than a lion.”

Pike still seemed troubled. Then he remembered himself. “Yes… I… came here to bring you this.”

He unslung the burden on his pack. He offered up a sword, wrapped in cloth. Myra unbundled it and stared into the steel.

“Erasmus’…” she breathed.

“It saved my life. He gave it to me… but now, you’re safe. That promise, at least, I’ve kept. Wait, no… there was something else.”

“Yes?”

“Before… before he passed, he asked me to tell you something. Did Erda mention that?”

“No,” Myra lied. “What did he say?”

Pike cleared his throat, “He wanted to tell you, ‘the story must go on, even though we must leave it, when our parts are played.’

“He said… he was glad to have lived. His last words… was to say…” he coughed and fought back a tear. “He loves you.”

Myra closed her eyes and smiled.

“And for my part…” Pike said. “I’m sorry, for everything.”

“And the pun?” Myra asked.

Pike nodded. “Especially the pun.”

“Thank you, Pike,” she said. “Garth. Erasmus. Wudu as well. They were brave enough to live the lives they wanted, even if they must be short. I would love them still, if they were less than what they were. But no use for dreaming of what-if’s. Not for those men. Might as well stop the wind from blowing, or the waves from crashing.”

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“Yes…” Pike said. “They were… are… the best of men.”

“And what will you do now?” Myra asked.

“Me? Well, I still have a debt to pay.”

“Debt?” Myra frowned. “What do you mean?”

Pike shrugged. “I’ve owed Erda a life-debt, ever since she gave me that potion. I wanted to pay it off with some heroics, but I’ve cocked it up every step of the way. And now… even the Tree is gone.”

“Without you,” Myra said, “Erasmus could not have won the battle, he told me so himself.”

“Maybe that’s true. But I still carried the sword that struck down Erasmus. And the Tree. I mean to set things right.”

“But how?”

Pike scratched his head. “Well… I figured I could just, replace the Tree.”

Myra stared at him in surprise. “Replace the Tree?”

“Yeah? Easier said than done. But still, if there’s one Tree out there with magic fruit, there’s bound to be another. Or something similar. I don’t know, but that’s what I’ll find out.”

“But where in the world would you begin.”

“No clue. But there’s only so many islands out there on the sea. I’ll just start at the nearest one, and work my way from there”

Myra laughed. “This sounds like a chivalrous quest.”

Pike blushed. “I thought of it more as a bounty hunt…but, you know. Less bloody.”

“You really mean it?” Myra said. “You venture into the four corners of the world? And find a wondrous treasure? Repay a debt to the woman you love.”

“You’re making fun of me now…” Pike said, bashfully.

“Not at all,” Myra laughed. “I’m envious. And proud. Just as Erasmus would be. Here…” She held out the sword to Pike.

He stared at it in confusion. “What…?”

“I want you to have it,” Myra said.

“Me? Erasmus’… I can’t. It’s clearly a hero’s sort of thing. And I came here all the way here to give it back…” But she forced it into his hands, and he held it awkwardly.

She smiled. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t need his sword. I already have something to remember him by,” she laid a hand upon her belly.

Pike stared at her in confusion, his brows raising as understanding finally reached him.

She looked back up at him. “Erasmus would want to do the same thing. The restore the Tree of miracles back to Erda. He would want to join you. Carry that sword, remember him, and fulfil your promise.”

Pike nodded. “Aye… I’ll do that. For… for Erasmus.”

“Thank you,” she leaned close and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re not going to see Erda?”

“No,” Pike said. “I couldn’t bare for her to see me, not until this job is done.”

“Then I won’t say goodbye.”

“Aye,” Pike nodded. “I’ll be back. With a miracle in hand.”

Myra closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the Hunter was gone.

“Is that it?” The Ghost’s eyebrow was raised so hard it was audible from within his helmet. “When you said you had to see a woman, I expected something more… intimate.”

“Shut up…” Pike waved his hand dismissively. “I said I had to deliver something.”

“You evidently didn’t deliver that sword?” The Ghost nodded towards the weapon. “Fine looking piece of steel, but what good will it be? I can still duel you to the death, if that’s what you wish.”

Pike shook his head. “I told you already… I have a job that still needs doing.”

“At the end of a noose?”

“You let me worry about that,” Pike said. “I’m in the market for some… rare goods.”

The Ghost nodded. “And who better to enquire with first, than a reigning monarch?”

“Exactly right.”

“But this monarch wants your life,” The Ghost continued. “Your crime won’t be so easily forgiven.”

“That’s not really your problem, is it?” said Pike. “So long as you collect the reward.”

“I dare say,” The Ghost chuckled, “that I’ve grown fond of you. Villain though you are.”

Pike grinned. “See… I’m not so bad after all. Once you get to know me.”

Later, Myra made her way down the forest path, wrapped in her green cloak. A basket of flowers she had gathered were in her arms. She entered the small village, rangers beaming at her as she drew near. Ruadh turned from lecturing a pair of young men and waved at her direction. Bran even bowed at her.

Myra approached a small hut, were Erda was sat grinding seeds for an ointment. Life, for the rangers, went on. They were bruised and battered, but they had survived, and were stronger for it. As too, was Myra.

As Myra laid down her basket, she looked around her, feeling the new life stir in her womb. Surrounded by these people, she felt a warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Well…” she said. “I’m home.”