“Unfortunate events come and go like the errant winds. Some are predictable, some are not. But the masterful hand may sail either to more fortunate endings.”
— Quote by Wizard (Grandfather) Albernathy Thomas Barnwinkle
* * *
They heard them before they saw them.
Something big bounded and crashed through the brush accompanied by an oddly pitched, yipping bark.
“Alby?” Flynn jerked, one arm raised as if to see better. His eyes darted sideways to Thailan, beside him and then Leinan. “That’s got to be Alby.” He muttered. He lifted his voice. “Alby! Comm’ere, boy! Com —”
And then he was bowled over, laughing, by a yipping, slobbering form which looked like nothing more than a mound of wriggling, quilted fur, bent ears and a wet nose.
“Alby!” Flynn laughed and he was joined by exclamations from Thailan and Leinan and even Aemon and Keimen wanted to pet and touch —
“Boys?”
“Its Da.” Theilan breathed, disbelieving. Then, “Da! We’re here we —”
And Leinan and Theilan wavered where they stood and Flynn rested his head back against the mulchy soil in abject relief as Elendandor Meremandorson, Theilan and Leinan's father and even burlier than his son, stepped around a copse of trees and was closely followed by the Mayor of Landsend and several villagers.
There was Master Bilian the chandler. Masters Hue and Cannaeson and… they’d come.
They were carrying boar spears and several held bows, but Elenandor dropped his and he dashed to his children and flung his arms around them.
He was closely followed by the graying and balding form of the Mayor, puffing and panting behind him.
— “Leia! There you are, my girl! Boys! Where —”
— “We swept the forest. Up and down the Danger line and miles past. The tracks just —”
— “How about you little ones? You must be starving. How —”
— “We searched. For days! How —”
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— “Leia! Where —”
How? Where?
Leinan, Theilan and Flynn were flooded with questions. Men slapped them on the backs and shook them and squinted at them.
The twins, Aemon and Keimen had their hair ruffled and were hugged and had the dirt rubbed from their faces more than they had in their entire lives, and always those same questions.
How?
Where?
Why?
Theilan looked at Flynn.
Flynn looked back at Theilan, and then they both slowly looked at Leinan who was somehow still standing stock-still despite all the hugging and shaking.
* * *
Leinan watched as if from a league away.
And… It was all so surreal. So…
Her mouth moved. “Da?” She breathed, and her mouth had to work to form that word as if she had not spoken it for years. She squinted at her father. At the Mayor and the villagers who she had shared supper and festivals and winters with.
She clutched at Aemon and Keimen’s shirts and held them close to her no matter how hard they were pulled at.
It felt like eons had passed. As if she’d forgotten what they looked like or how to interact with them. “Ma-yor?”
They looked back at her, concern and not a little bit of fear written all across their features.
“What happened?” They asked her. “What happened?”
Leinan worked her mouth and then there was a shuffling from behind and a warning went up from one of the villagers. A couple bows raised, but they stilled mid way, uncertainly.
Leinan turned slowly, already knowing what she was going to see.
There he was. The Wizard. But she didn’t recognize him.
He shuffled slowly into the clearing.
He had pants on, and a strange shirt, but no shoes.
Black hair frizzed, loose and wild on his head and there was no hat to cover it.
He wore a shirt, soaked with sweat and baggy and there was no robe from which he pulled the wonders of worlds from, to hide it from view.
There was no Something about him. No air of knowledge and mystique, and his eyes were flat and glassy. If ever there was a twinkle in them, Leinan could no longer tell.
He was naked, this Wizard, more than he ever had been when he wore just his undergarments and his hat, and his eyes passed over and never noticed the gathered villagers.
They stared up. Up into the canopy of greenery, to where the moon had been all the night before. And his mouth moved silently.
“Who is that?” The men asked. “What happened?”
Leinan opened her mouth. And closed it again. Opened it and closed it.
How? What could she say?
How could she tell them of a night longer than any other?
Of a man called a Wizard who stood against The Forerunner of all the Fae?
Of games and Games played by moon and star and firelight for the riches of nations and worlds and the fates of two children?
Of eyes like Blades, and two that twinkled.
Of a Hat grander than any other, and a Robe which held more than you’d ever expect.
Of strange tea and too-perfect stones.
Of Magic, but not a mage. Of Otherness and Something and More. Of looking around the actual. Of winning and still losing.
How could she speak of any of that?
Leinan opened her mouth… and closed it again and shook her head and could not speak a word.
It. Was. All. Just. So. Surreal.