I've been working on this concept for a few months, now, because the world needs more Annad in it. A lot more. Then suddenly, a perfect reason to write it fell out of the sky! My good friend The Moonclaw has posted a Fic-A-Thon prompt on her profile for the summer, based on the symbolic colors of the DC Universe. It is open to all fandoms through August, so feel free to join in the fun! Today's color is blue, the color of hope, which matches well with green, the color of will, and whose opposite is red, the color of rage.
This is part of a much larger canon of mine, that might be slowly written in the form of oneshots. But for now, here's Annad being heartbreakingly adorable. The concept was largely inspired by very poignant fan comics I've seen-one for Legend of Zelda, and the other for Lord of the Rings. ;)
Have fun with this, and enjoy!
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Talking to Stones
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It was well before dawn, when Rowan woke with a start. Something was moving in the otherwise still and silent bakery. From an instinct that had grown over the last few years, his body tensed, braced for action, as his eyes darted back and forth, looking for the source of the noise. Seeing nothing in the darkness, he slowly sat up, completely awake and alert, trying to peer through the shadows.
Through the open windows, the sky was changing from inky black to deep, grayish blue, and the stars were fading one by one; but there was no light. The only thing he could see was the silhouette of one of his companions, also sitting up in the pallet she slept on, camped on the floor near him. She was completely still, listening carefully, every fiber of her body tuned to it.
So, the sound had woken Zeel, as well. Not an enormous surprise; her senses had always been much sharper than his own. Her eyes shifted toward him, as she realized that he, too, was awake. Not that he could see this in the dark-he could feel her all-seeing, pale blue eyes on him, and knew that they were alight with nerves.
"You hear that?" she ventured in a whisper, so softly he almost didn't hear.
"I do," Rowan agreed. "Who could be stirring so early?"
Almost as soon as he had finished speaking, they heard the back door quietly swing shut, creaking slightly on its hinges, and the knob clicked shut. Someone had left the bakery, wisely avoiding the front door, near which four exhausted heroes slept.
Two of them had been woken, all the same. Exchanging a glance they could barely see in the dark, but feeling it and understanding it's meaning, the two friends silently rose from the floor, grabbed their jackets, and made their way through the bakery to steal out the back door.
Taking their jackets had merely been another habit that was hard to forget. It was the middle of summer, now, only four months since their adventure on the Mountain, and the end of the winter that seemed to have no ending. That winter had lasted well into the spring, ruining any chance of a good planting season, and leaving very little food for the small company that remained in Rin. The summer almost seemed to mock them, with its warmth and utter normality, as if nothing had been different. As if nothing and no one had changed.
Even this early in the morning, the air was thick and sticky, very close and very warm, and their jackets were completely unnecessary. These days, however, one could never be too sure. A fact the two friends had learned all too well, side by side, in some of their world's most dangerous and evil places. The lessons they had learned and the small quirks they had picked up would not be easily forgotten. And so it was, that they went sneaking down the lane in the damp pre-dawn dimness, keeping stealthily to the shadows and listening carefully to the footsteps ahead of them, with their jackets over the clothes they had worn the day before and slept the night in.
The adults in the house fretted about this habit, but were mostly content to sigh sadly over it and let it be. All the same, it obviously troubled them. Inwardly, Rowan wished he could be a little less troublesome, for once in his rather awkward life, especially now that the final adventure was over and all was as it should be. If he thought about it, though, the idea of being anything but the way he was right now boggled his mind. The shy, weak little boy with a runny nose he had been, only two years before, seemed like a stranger to him now; the person he could be with time, as the little quirks were outgrown and left behind, seemed an impossible daydream.
Rowan had been thinking about this a lot, lately; but he decided that it was too early, and that the task at hand was too important for such thoughts. He pushed those gloomy thoughts to the back of his mind, and focused on the present, unfolding around him. He focused on blurry shapes appearing out of the lightening dimness, of houses, trees, and other landmarks he faintly recognized. He focused on Zeel's solid presence beside him, the presence of the most trusted and most unlikely best friend he could think of, supporting him and comforting him, as she always did. And, if he focused hard enough on the dark lane ahead of them, he could see a cloaked figure hurrying through the deserted village.
The two friends slipped along the streets behind the figure on bare, silent feet, easily matching paces with their wayward friend. Rowan wondered who it could be, and where he or she was going. It was difficult to tell the figure's size and shape at a distance, in the dark, with the hood of its cloak over its head. It seemed a shadow, slipping in and out of his view as thin, early morning mist swirled in the streets. The cloaked figure could be nearly any one of his companions, and it worried him slightly. The idea that one of his parents or friends could be in some sort of trouble filled his heart with anxiety.
He immediately wondered if Zeel was also anxious about that, but forced himself to keep silence. There would be time for talking later, when stealth was no longer important. However, he got the feeling that she was as worried as he was. He could almost feel anxiety radiating off of her, fueling his own, agreeing that perhaps he was right to be nervous. Zeel was never nervous or afraid. She was level headed and practical, with just enough coldness to give her an edge, but not cold enough to not feel deeply.
She cared very much for her friends, and was unafraid of addressing it as the love it was. After all she had been through with them all, the thought of a loved one in distress brought her distress, as well. In spite of their current adventure, Rowan smiled slightly at the idea. They hadn't met under the best circumstances; he had tried to tackle and strangle her, not hours after their first meeting. She hadn't cared much for him, either; she had distrusted him, pushed him away as hard as she could. Two years later, neither could imagine life without the other. Their friendship had become so strong, not even the Mountain had been able to break it. Challenge it, oh yes. Shake it, perhaps. But break it? Never.
Neither one of them was at all what the other had expected. And in finding this, they had each learned something much bigger about themselves.
For now, that reflection was enough. Whichever of their friends had slipped out of the bakery, and watever trouble ailed them, it would be dealt with in patience and love, as only the two heroes could give. They had learned much about both. Together, they could help their friends through anything.
After following the cloaked figure halfway through the village, they came to an abrupt halt and skittered into an alley. The figure had stopped suddenly, only a few hundred yards ahead, to stand still and look around. Perhaps he or she knew someone was following. After a moment of long, empty silence, Zeel and Rowan peered around the alley to see what was happening. The figure ahead of them was leaning over a fence to pick some flowers off a plant in someone's yard, for there was no one around to object.
The dark hood of the cloak had been thrown back, at last revealing the pale face of a child, and streaming, unbrushed hair so golden that it shone like light in the darkness.
Rowan couldn't help a gasp that seemed loud and echoing in the stillness. It was Annad, his young sister, who suddenly looked achingly like their father. He heard Zeel gasp beside him, just as surprised as he was. What on earth could the girl be up to? What should they do?
Before he could think of any solutions to these questions, Annad turned to look behind her, sending her pursuers back into their hiding place. Hopefully, it was still too dark for her to see them, even though she shone like candlelight for anyone to see. When they looked again, she had turned and started on her way again, skipping the first few steps as she pulled her hood back on. Clearly, she was excited to get where she was going.
"What should we do now?" Rowan wondered, once she was too far away to hear.
"We could keep following her," Zeel suggested, sounding more intrigued than concerned. "I, for one, would like to know what she's up to."
"She's my little sister! We should collect her and take her back as quickly as we can, before mother wakes to find us both missing."
"Dawn is well off, still, and we have plenty of time. It can't hurt to follow her just a little further. And you are just as curious as I am, I know it."
Rowan was never one to be overly curious, and certainly not where his precious sister was concerned, but his friend had a point. His anxiety was suddenly mingled with a burning curiosity. For reasons as selfish as selfless, he desperately wanted to know where his sister was going this early in the morning, cloaked and hooded in the summer humidity, with a handful of new flowers and a skip in her step. It was odd. Very odd...
Tired of his hesitation, Zeel grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him after her into the street. "Would you come along, for the love of all things?" she demanded, halfway between annoyance and amusement. "The light is slowly growing stronger, but I can barely see her through the mist. If we don't hurry, we shall lose her!"
Again matching the girl's pace from a safe distance, they followed her on through the misty streets of the empty village. It was so still and silent, it seemed like it had been deserted for years, even though it had only been a few months. The dull gray-blue sky was slowly growing lighter, as dawn rapidly approached. When the sun rose, it would reveal homes falling into slight disrepair, and untended gardens overgrown with weeds. For now, with the darkness masking the sight, it was easy to ignore. When dawn came and shone its light on the mostly abandoned village, ignoring its emptiness would be impossible.
Rowan was certain that if only they had a light to see by, he would know where they were, and where his sister was leading them. Even in the dark, the street felt so familiar to him, as if he would know it even in his sleep. He felt like he recognized things-little things that he would have taken for granted in the light. Like the vague shape of a tree, here; the outline of a chimney against the paling sky, there; the oddly shaped fence that jutted suddenly into the street to bang into his hip if he wasn't paying attention-
The sharp, sudden pain in his hip was like a clear answer, as he ran into the fence as he always did. He inhaled sharply, biting back a cry as the pain jolted through his leg, grateful for Zeel's strong hands steadying him.
"The fields," he gasped as quietly as he could. "Nearly every morning and every evening I can remember, I've gone this way."
"What could she be up to, there?" Zeel wkndered, looking off to where Annad had nearly vanished into the mist without looking back. "The bukshah-"
"Will be sleeping still, like the sensible beasts they are," Rowan interrupted, regaining his balance and rubbing his hip. "It irritates them to be woken so early. Annad knows this from experience, as I do. But what else is there for her out there at this time?"
Their curiosity nearly outweighing their concern, the two hurried to catch up with the girl ahead of them. How easy it is to misplace such a bright and bold little girl, Rowan thought as they walked. I'm always losing sight of her, it seems, always having to track her down and bring her back. She will be the death of me, I am certain of it.
That had been true enough, in the past. Who knew what she might be walking into, and leading them with her? All alone, in the dark, the weight of their last great adventure still heavy on them, anything could happen. It was sort of exciting, and sort of terrifying, all at the same time.
It quickly became clear that the bukshah field was not Annad's goal; in fact, they realized that she had passed the trodden path that led there, and was walking in the opposite direction. There were only a few places she could be going, in that case. The teaching tree was nearby; beyond that, all that Rowan could think of was the mill. Nothing else stood out on the map in his mind.
Where, oh where was she going? He burned to know, for a growing number of reasons.
Again, he suddenly got that feeling of knowing exactly where he was, but being unable to name it because he was disoriented and couldn't see anything properly. The feeling was overwhelming. All at once, it occurred to him: wherever Annad had been going, they had reached it. Even though he had no clear idea of where they were, she had known all along where she was headed. She had walked the whole way with purpose and excitement, somehow very aware of her surroundings, unaware that her older brother had been stumbling in the dark behind her the whole time.
And now, we have arrived, he thought, remembering a moment not terribly long ago, when he had thought the exact same thing. What will happen this time?
He looked around and found that they were surrounded by vague shapes, spaced evenly apart, hulking around them in rows. He wondered what they were, and where he was, as the shape of a tall tree loomed before him. He hadn't thought much about the place before Zeel had pulled him aside, to hide behind the tree. When he shot her a questioning look, he saw her raise a finger to her lips, insisting that he be quiet.
It occured to him how clearly he could see her, and how clearly she could see him. Though it was hard to see much further, the hazy blue light was growing by the minute. Soon, they would be able to see their surroundings as clearly as they saw each other.
"Um... Hello."
Annad's voice was soft in the stillness, unusually hesitant and tender. They both paused to hear her better, wondering who she could be talking to.
"I... I know I haven't been back for a long time," she stammered, sounding embarassed. "I know I said I'd be back soon, and I'm sorry. But so much has happened since we left! There's so much I have to tell you."
Because she thought she was alone, the child's guard was completely down. While she thought no one was watching, she let her voice waver with many different, very strong emotions. Rowan easily recognized the excitement she had carried with her all the way from the bakery; but he could also hear that it was mingled with regret, sorrow, and a longing he had never seen or heard from her before.
Concerned again, he peered around the tree to look for his sister. She was kneeling before one of the vague shapes, not too far away from where he was hiding. She had her back to the tree, still unaware that he was so close. She had thrown her hood back once again, leaving her long hair to shine in the dimness like a halo. It would be hard to misplace her now, and that was good. But if he could see her face, Rowan imagined it would be baffled with emotions.
And he still had no idea who she might be talking to, or why the person hadn't answered her yet. He shivered, as he wondered if his sister was losing her wits.
"I mean," the girl was continuing in a shy voice, "big brother's the one who should be telling you. He fixed everything again, just like he did last time. He's pretty wonderful, like that. But if I asked him to come and tell you, I know he wouldn't. He's too shy. So I'm going to tell you, just like I did before, okay? I hope you don't mind."
Rowan looked over his shoulder at Zeel, sitting behind him, who could only shrug and give him a concerned, bewildered look. With nothing more to say or do, they looked back around the tree and continued to listen.
"Rowan told us everything-everything!" she was saying. "He climbed up the Mountain all over again, can you believe it? But we didn't know he was going to. We had already left. If we had known, mama would have stopped him, I know it. And I would have stopped him, too. That wicked old Sheba gave him another one of her riddles to solve, and then he had a vision, and he knew he had to go. Oh, it would have made you so mad..."
Her voice trailed off, chocked with tears of anger and frustration. Apparently, Rowan realized, she was reporting his story to someone. Yet there was no one around in this deserted place to listen. It was almost too much to keep from jumping out of his hiding place and demanding an explanation. He was so worried. As if sensing this, Zeel put a restraining hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently, warning him to be still.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to listen to his sister's voice rambling nearby. At the very least, he thought, it will be interesting to hear how a seven-year-old understands the tale. It is a long and complicated one, and sometimes I wonder if I understand the whole thing, myself. She's right; so much has happened...
"Well," Annad continued with a curt sigh, "we were only gone a day. We were walking with everyone else to the coast, where we were supposed to be safe. And then we saw a yellow kite fly over us-it was Zeel, of course. But she only comes when there's trouble, so we knew something was really wrong. Allun said we should go back and help, and the other aduts all agreed, so we did. But by the time we got back, the whole thing was already over! And we didn't even get to help at all! That's how good my brother is at things, you know.
"And they told us the most amazing things! Things like you wouldn't believe! Rowan tried to go all by himself, but Shaaran and Norriss wouldn't let him, because they love him too much. So they went together to the Mountain. And then Zeel found them and went with them too! Rowan tried to make her leave, but she laughed at him and told him no. He needs her, too. So they all went together, so it's really no wonder they fixed everything so fast."
"But of course, it wasn't easy. Nothing's ever easy for them. First, they had to go in this awful place they called the Vale of Horrors, where they all saw each other as monsters! It's the most terrible thing I can imagine; and I'm scared to tell anyone, but I've had nightmares about it. But they all got out of there alive, because Shaaran saved them. She's brave and strong, too, you know; everyone just forgets, sometimes.
"And then, they all had to fight a real monster, and Norriss almost died! He said it was the hardest thing he's ever done, because he was hurt and in pain, and he was afraid for his friends. And they were all afraid for him, because they thought he would die trying to save them. He says that he's only alive because of a miracle.
"Then they found this cave where they thought they'd be safe, and it nearly caved in on them! But that was okay, because it kept the monsters outside from seeing them, and they were able to get out alright. Oh, you should have seen Marlie's face when they told that part; she was so scared, I thought she was going to cry.
"Then, they found these trees, and these awful parasites-oh! And they found the bukshah! They had gone up the Mountain, and they were looking for them, and they found them! But the parasites had gotten them, too, and were sucking out everyone's blood. But they found a magic spring that killed all the parasites, and fixed all their hurts, too. And they said that was a good thing, too, because they were all hurt very badly. I still don't know if that part is true, because they looked completely fine to me. The spring must really be magic, I guess. I asked Rowan if he would take me to see it sometime, just to see if it's really real, but he says it's too dangerous.
"So then they followed Star and the others after that, because they sure seemed to know where they were going. The herd took them to this place they called Mountain Heart-the whole thing is full of liquid gold and boiling hot, they said, and I'm going to make Rowan take me to see that, too. That's when the bukshah came in and found the monster's nest, and tore it all apart, and killed them all with the heat.
"And that's how they fixed everything this time. Rowan says that there are stil some monsters on the Mountain, though, and that they can never be all killed, but that it's alright. He says that from now on, he's going to let the herd go up the Mountian in the wintertime to take care of it, like they're supposed to. He says it will keep the balance from now on."
Rowan had watched his sister retell the story in silence and amusement. She had babbled the entire thing in a frenzy, jumping to her feet to pace when she couldn't contain herself, kneeling again to try and be serious, and then losing herself and starting to pace again. Though he admired her enthusiasm and admiration, it was hard to decide how he felt about the number of holes in her version of the story. It suddenly seemed like a sequence of fantastic things that couldn't really happen. Nothing more than a children's fairy tale.
That was because Annad didn't know the details of the adventure, and Rowan had no intention of explaining them until she was his age, at least. They had carefully picked and chosen the parts they had told her, because she deserved to know what had happened, as much as any of them did. It wasn't until she was deep asleep that they had revealed how truly nightmarish their trip up the Mountain had been, and the things they had brought back with them.
There had been enough shouting and wailing and weeping from all the adults, by the real story's end. It was nothing that Annad's young mind needed to be burdened with. For now, it was better for her to believe that her brother and his friends were heroes, and magical ones. It was better for her to draw strength and confidence from these stories, instead of apprehension and fear. One day, when she was older and wiser, and he could find the right words to tell her with, he would tell her the whole truth. The hard truth of what a hero's life is really like, and the even harder truth of the fabled people she came from.
But for now, she was proud and happy, and filled with hope. That was enough.
The girl sighed heavily and rocked back and forth slightly on her heels, as if gathering herself to say something.
"You should see him now," she continued quietly. "Rowan, I mean. He's very different from the last time you saw him. I think he's getting taller, taller than everyone thought he was going to be. And he's gotten strong, really strong, and I don't think he knows it yet." She giggled suddenly, and added, "I think he's also very handsome. He's the most handsome boy I can think of. I think he's wonderful, no matter what anyone says."
As she paused, Rowan closed his eyes and smiled. His sister had always believed in him, no matter what. She trusted and believed in him like she trusted and believed in the rising sun. She had never minded what people said about him, or the way he looked or acted. He was her big brother, and she simply assumed that he would come through for her. She had no reason to think otherwise; and he had never once let her down.
He opened his eyes to the sound of his sister speaking again. As he did so, he suddenly found that the sky was just bright enough to see where he was, at long last. The realization filled him with dread and sent a shiver down his spine. He glanced at Zeel, and knew from her similar look of surprise and terror, that she, too, had recognized those vague shapes in the dark for what they were: gravestones.
They were sitting in the middle of the graveyard. While the two sat stiffly against the tree, paralyzed with shock, Annad's voice carried on as pleasantly as before.
"But mostly, I think he's different because he has so many friends now. It's the truth! He didn't have any friends at all, and now he has friends all over the place! And they're good friends. Good friends who love him so much, and take care of him when I'm not around, and that makes me happy. Now he has Shaaran, who's kind to him; and he's got Norriss, who's like a big brother of his very own. And of course he has Zeel-she stops everything she's doing to help, if he's in trouble. I don't have friends like his.
"I think he brought Zeel to meet you, once; but I don't know if the others have met you yet..."
Rowan couldn't believe he had forgotten. She was still talking to someone, and that someone still hadn't spoken a word. As they peered around the tree once more, Zeel looked alarmed.
In the pale blue light, Annad was still kneeling before one of the gravestones, regarding it thoughtfully before she spoke again. At its base lay the small bundle of periwinkle blossoms she had picked in the dark, on her way there. And there was no one else there. Aside from the three of them, the graveyard was as still and lifeless as it ought to be. It seemed that she had been speaking to the silent stone the whole time.
Rowan felt his heart sink as if it were stone, itself. Just as he was beginning to despair that his sister really was going mad, she reached out and ran her fingers over the stone. She sighed heavily, sadly, as she traced the name there with her fingertips.
"Papa... I wish you could have really met them. You would have liked them, I think."
Immediately, he felt something like ice grip his heart. His stomach lurched painfully, and for a dizzy moment he was sure he would be sick. He could feel himself trembling, as he finally understood. He had unknowingly followed his sister to the place where their father was buried. A place he could barely stand to think of, but which she seemed to have been visiting frequently. Why? Why had she done this?
Beside him, Zeel was watching him warrily, very aware of the wound that had been struck in him. For just a moment, she let down her normal barriers and held his hand firmly in her own, letting him grip it like a lifeline. Something solid, comforting, and of the present, to keep him from despairing for the past.
There was a long, painful moment of mournful silence. Annad seemed at last to have run out of things to say; and the two friends, huddled beneath the tree, hardly dared to breathe.
The moment passed all at once, as they heard the rustling of fabric and realized that the girl had stood once again. When they looked, she was standing quite still, looking as if her fiery energy had suddenly been quelled. She ran her hand over the edge of the gravestone and sighed again, slightly less sad. When she spoke again, Rowan could tell that she was smiling.
"Well, that's everything, I think. It's all I have the time for, anyway; the sun will be up soon, and everyone will notice I'm gone if I'm not back soon. But I will come back and bring you more news, papa, I promise. And I'll be back much sooner than I was this time. I'm really, really sorry about that, but, well... I guess you understand."
She hesitated, glancing at the sky as it lightened over the hills. Clearly, she wasn't ready to leave this place. She bent slightly to wrap her arms around the stone, and hugged it for a long moment.
"I will come visit you again, papa," she promised in a shaky voice. "Maybe next time, I can get Rowan to come with me. He misses you so much... I miss you, too."
Leaving a whispered good-bye and a gentle kiss on the top of the stone, she pulled her hood back over head and turned to hurry out of the graveyard. Dawn had nearly arrived, indeed; she had very little time to make her way back to the bakery, if she didn't want to be noticed. Like a true daughter of Rin, she never even looked back; and so she never noticed the two stunned figured under the tree, who had been watching her the whole time.
And just like that, Annad finally vanished into the fading mist.
There was another long pause, as they thought about what they had seen. Rowan let his head rest against the tree, feeling abysmal and heartbroken for his sister. To anyone else, she would seem quite mad, indeed, speaking to the gravestone of a dead person as if he were really there to hear or answer. However, being the oddity he was, he could understand. The last seven years had been so hard without the father he had loved so much; but at least he could remember the man's face and voice, and had known the good man he was. Even in the loneliest moments, when he had most wished his father was still alive, those memories had been comforting.
But Annad had no such memories. She had only been a month old, when their father had been taken from them so terribly. She would never know him in this life. That must be so painful for her, he thought. She must feel that emptiness as well as I did, once. She will feel it more and more deeply, as she grows up. But this-these secret visits to his grave-this is her own way of trying to fill that emptiness. To feel as though she really is speaking to him, and that he is really listening. To feel as though she does know him, after all.
After a minute of contemplation, Zeel released his hand and hugged her knees to her chest, staring into space, shivering despite the warm air and her light jacket.
"What now?" she asked quietly.
The answer seemed obvious. They both wanted to get out of the graveyard as quickly as they could, to steal back to the bakery and back into their pallets on the floor. To do this before dawn broke, and their companions woke to find them mysteriously gone. To get out of this place of grief, regret, and death, as fast as their feet could carry them. They had both had enough of such things for a very long time.
But Rowan felt something holding him back. Something remained that he had to do here. Something he now felt that he should have been doing as often as his sister did, instead of running and hiding from it. He slowly stood up, prompting his friend to do the same. She took a step back the way they had come, glad to be going. Then she stopped and turned, surprised that he was not going back, but forward. To stop and stand before the grave of his father.
He, too, needed to talk to this silent stone.
"Hello, father," he said quietly, not entirely sure how to speak to a rock. "So... Annad got me to come here, after all, just like she said she would. I suppose you knew I was there the whole time, though. I couldn't just let her wander off alone in the dark, you know? When I was small, you told me to always watch over her and protect her, because that's what a big brother is for. And that's exactly what I've done, ever since then. You wouldn't believe some of the things I've done for her... Well, I suppose she's told you all about that by now..."
He laughed nervously, memories of the past summer leaping into his mind, as he realized it had been more than a year since that journey. He felt like he was still babbling foolishly to a stone, not to his father, who would have smiled and said how proud he was. Because that was exactly what he would have done. All the same, Rowan felt his voice running on, almost out of his control.
"I know it's been a long time since I've come here-much longer than Annad, it seems. I know you must understand how hard it is for me; I don't know how she can stand it. But... I don't know. Maybe it is wrong of me to stay away like this. I just wish there was a way you could answer me-us. It's been seven years, and we've made a new family, and we're growing up; but that doesn't mean we don't miss you, or need you. It's not fair, not to anyone. It's all especially unfair to her. I simply don't know what I can do..."
He felt a squeeze on his arm, and a warm presence close behind him.
"Don't let his fretting upset you, sir. He does, indeed, have good friends, and we will take care of him as best we can. This son of yours is far more stubborn than he realizes, but he is also a good friend. We won't fail him."
There was a lightness in Zeel's voice that made him think at first that she was teasing him, or perhaps playing along with him out of pity. But it was a tone he knew well-that careless tone of voice he had heard many a Traveler use to mask anger or pain, because such free and happy people were unused to such difficult emotions. And even though she had a marvelous temper, she was little different from the people who had raised her. Behind that teasing voice, Zeel was speaking from a very genuine, very sincere, very hurt place in her heart.
Zeel and Annad had very little in common. But they both lived with the knowledge that their fathers were dead, that they had no memories of them, and would never be able to know them.
"Your daughter is quite right, though," she went on, her very matter-of-fact voice still teasing. "Our Rowan is getting taller; he's grown several inches recently, and now he's only half a head shorter than I am. It's impressive, really. And yes, he is growing to be quite handsome, indeed. I imagine he must now look very much like you, sir, particularly on the inside, I think. He's always said you had a good and noble heart. He certainly has one of his own. It is remarkable to behold."
Her voice grew softer, lost its teasing edge, and became very honest as she continued, "Your son is my best friend. He has saved my life many times, and so I have saved his. We've been through so much together, and we've watched each other change. You would be very proud of the man he is becoming, as I am. You don't have to worry about him. You don't have to worry about him."
It felt like those comments had been as much for him as for the stone, which had still offered no response. All the same, Rowan was certain that his father's spirit had heard them both, and was overjoyed. He put his hand on his friend's, still holding his arm, steadying and comforting him.
"Thank you."
"Oc course."
It was one of those moments where nothing more needed to be said. Suddenly, the moment was perfect the way it was, as they stood in the graveyard, talking to stones, and the first pale light of dawn began creeping over the hills. The hazy blue sky was stained by degrees of violet and lavender, rose and orange. Beyond was the golden light of the rising sun. And beyond that, clear blue sky and the light of day.
Far away and high above them, the Dragon roared, and the balance was kept.
All was as it should be.