**Author's Note** This story stakes place after the Seven have made it to Whitehall Castle, so if you haven't read up til then there is a minor spoiler here. Well, when I read Venom and Song I was disappointed to see that Brynn died, and her last given line is "Should be." I'd grown attached to this character who met her end in a different way than I might have liked. Brynn may have been a supporting character, but I could see she had heart. I resolved to do something about her end, just more. This is it.
ENDURANCE & VICTORY
Brynn knew that any battle could be her last, but over the years she had grown confident in her abilities and was nearly as comfortable with a sword in her hand as she was holding a cup.
Which was why this was a surprise.
If the flet marshal had to have guessed, she would have said her end might come at the hands of the Spider King's forces- but after the impossible had already happened, the Seven Lords returned to Allyra? After being discovered, in a flet? Brynn would have never imagined such a thing.
As her vision began to cloud and fade, scenes from Brynn's memory started to play through her mind: the sunlit days of her youth during the last years of the Age of Peace, cavorting about the Thousand-League Forest; taking on the vows of the Old Ways and becoming a Sentinel upon entering adulthood, and enlisting in the military, becoming the youngest flet marshal since Grimwarden himself- there was even speculation his position would be passed down to her once the man retired, but Brynn had been content to serve under him during her career. The scene of Sarron Froth's death came to life again, the flames of the turncoat Drefid's eyes forever burned into her memory, as was the moment they were extinguished; and then the rest of the fall of Berinfell rushed through her mind, and the centuries of the Age of Hiding blurred past, but through it all- until now- Brynn had endured.
Her wounds throbbed as the Warspider venom did its lethal work. The Seven Lords... if only I could have... Brynn closed her eyes for what she expected to be the last time, exhaled what she was certain would be her last breath. Elloset nyleth...
Some time later- what could have been minutes, or years- the fallen flet marshal became aware of a presence. One of warmth and strength. "Brynn, open your eyes, child." The elf warrior struggled to do so, and her eyelids flickered open a crack; there was light, bright but not harsh, and moments later when they opened fully she found herself in a familiar grove of alder trees. Hands lifted her up into a sitting position, and beside her a stranger sat down. It was no one Brynn had met before but they had a familiar and welcoming face, and kind eyes. Then, Brynn knew what had happened, and began to weep as she held onto the stranger.
Moments later
"-but will the Seven Lords survive? Our whole race depends on them."
"You need not fear for the seven, I am watching over them. Indeed, they have safely arrived at Whitehall.
"Truly? I am relieved to know your hand still guides them." Brynn turned to face the ruins of Berinfell that loomed ahead. "If only I was there with them..."
"You have already given your life. I have watched you, Brynn, and there are rewards waiting for your service. Will you not rest?" Ellos asked, knowing what manner of woman Brynn was.
"I could sense it, but now I see so clearly there is much more to be done... and I always felt you calling me to take up my sword in your name."
"And even so, have there not been battles you could not win with your might, where bowstring and steel did not prevail? We both know, Brynn, it is these battle you have shied away from."
"Aye..." Brynn knew Ellos certainly did not mean any battle that required bowstring or steel.
"But you are not alone in those struggles, you have been loved." Ellos strolled to Brynn's side, where the woman leaned against an alder tree. "I offer many second chances in life, but very few second chances at life. Would you stay for your reward, or be the swift wings to bear the seven home safely? Which would you choose?"
"You know me, Ellos; and I know how you have made me." Brynn looked up, and Ellos beheld her face: on of gracefully formed purpose, with yearning blue eyes and red hair the color of autumn leaves.
Ellos asked gently, "So your choice is clear to you then? Where will you go, child?"
Brynn cleared her throat, and answered.
Ellos smiled.
The End
