“Argrave,” Anneliese called out, drawing him from a book. He read beneath the shade of a palm tree just beside the oasis. His Brumesingers stood near the buried bodies of the veterans that had fought at Sethia. He had thought the southron elves might be bothered by this, but rather, they saw it as an honor. They hoped the Brumesingers would replicate the forms of their fallen warriors, some day.

“Hey,” he greeted, shutting the book at once.

“Reading what Garm wrote for you?” she questioned, walking up.

“Yeah,” Argrave nodded. “The stuff about the soul. Galamon had said it might interest me, and… well, it certainly sounds familiar.” He weighed the book in his hand. “Just as he wrote, whenever I tried to learn a spell ‘Argrave’ knew, I learned it very quickly. I guess if I ever tried torturing people, I’d be good at that, too.”

Anneliese raised a brow. “I take it ‘Argrave’ was not a good person?”

“If Felipe was their father, they’re a bother,” Argrave rhymed with a snap. “But what do you need? Some questions about our journey back north? About Orion? I was vague about him, but he’s… Christ, he’s my biggest worry. We stand to be here a couple more days. Plenty of time to settle anything that needs settling, I reckon.”

“Yet you are sad,” she noted.

Argrave turned away, then turned back. “I hope that isn’t obvious.”

“To me it is. To others… I know nothing of what they notice,” she shook her head. “What troubles you?”

“Just thinking… maybe if I had talked to Garm more, something like this wouldn’t have happened,” he admitted.

Her face fell a little. “Then it is not me alone thinking like that.”

Argrave gave a slow, bitter nod. “Ironically… heh,” he scratched beneath his nose. “If I had trusted him less, he’d be alive now.” He lowered his head. “Why was I so quick to bring Durran along? I smelled trouble. I knew something was brewing. If I had just…”

“I would feel a hypocrite consoling you when I feel the same. But truly, these thoughts do nothing for us. Nothing for Garm.” Anneliese held her hand out. “Come with me,” she insisted.

Argrave looked at her hand. He decisively set the book down and took her hand, standing quickly. She led him through the oasis town, and they waved to the few acquaintances they’d made amongst the southron elves. Eventually, she ducked into a cavern. Her Brumesinger was lounging away from the sun there, fluffy ears twitching.

Argrave was perplexed, but he said nothing. The dark cavern opened up after not ten steps, revealing a plateau beyond. He sized up the place, searching for something she might wish to show him. He soon realized he was looking in the wrong place, though. The suns were setting.

“I hoped you would be willing to do this, for me,” Anneliese began, stepping towards him. “Every time the suns descend below the horizon… we could watch them, talk… for an hour or so.”

With things falling into place, Argrave couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on his face. She’s more sentimental than she lets on, he realized. But the fact she suggested this meant that moment back then had meant as much for her as it had for him.

He held his hand out. “What if we’re underground? That happens a lot,” he asked teasingly.

“Argrave, I—”

she could misinterpret his answer as hesitance. “That sounds nice. Something to look forward to at the end of

be difficult to persuade you, especially since your health has improved. But I think this will be good for you,

not doing this out

“Even though you constantly joke, all you talk about is how we are to deal with Gerechtigkeit, the plague… how else am I to ask you questions, learn about you?”

only person that still called me ‘Vincenzo’ was my ma. Most people said

Anneliese repeated. “A fitting point

#####

to emerge from a location wholly separate from the blade… but once Galamon brought it to a stop, the blade distorted back

without much emotion. If Argrave willed it to be so, he could see the densely packed magic imbued in the blade

impressive,” Argrave said as

course it does,” said Iltuda

swing it as Galamon had. The haft of the glaive had runes just as the blade, shining purple even in the daylight. The black wyvern bone complimented the

Iltuda commented. “Had to read some old texts written by grandfather, back when the stuff was in abundance. Despite that… worked out well.” She looked at Galamon, jet black eyes scanning his person. She was examining his repaired armor, not his body, though. “Might’ve worked on adding

stepped away, satisfied. “You’ve done plenty. In fact, everyone has been far too accommodating,” Argrave complimented loudly, looking to Corentin,

of Sethia,” Corentin noted, and though his words were harsh, he still had a smile on his face. “And now, you made me wait for

knee had been hidden by white wrapping. The grizzled, one-eyed veteran walked with

didn’t…” Guilt made Argrave trail

laughed, then pushed Argrave. “You should know I don’t care by now.” His gaze wandered to a set of gravestones. “I got off light. But each

southron elves. “And all of them left descendants behind. If things continue as

they could laugh amidst grief was a testament

see you again, if you say you head to the northern kingdoms once again,

then Florimund did the same for the rest

before dawn tomorrow. You might not see me again…” Argrave stepped away towards the exit of Otraccia. “But

boy, are we? Well…” he nodded thoughtfully. “I’ll keep my ears open. Provided I

steps weighed down by the books in his pack but lightened by the fire in his heart… or

#####

future is unpredictable. Going forth… looks like I’ll have to rely on knowledge of what is, not what should be,” he shook his head. “Precisely because of that… this plague worries me. It’s

Argrave, is to

sigh, then wrapped one arm around

on Argrave’s shoulder, staring out across the vast expanse

himself. His voice grew quieter,

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