A man with black hair streaked heavily with white knelt beside a grave
marker in the Oriosa countryside. He was dressed in dirty traveling
clothes, scars evident almost everywhere the cloth did not cover. Standing
next to him was an intimidating Vorquelf whose arms were covered in purple
tattoos. Fingering a sword at this belt, the Vorquelf looked at the man
with an expression of wariness etched upon his face. His opaque eyes were
impossible to read. Finally, he spoke to the man known as Kedyn's Crow.
"We shouldn't be here," he said harshly, "They could arrest you at any moment."
"So you've said a hundred times since we started on our journey here," the man said drily, "But it isn't every day that you lose a father. I had to come here, despite the danger, despite how long it took to get here."
"Your father lost a son years ago and it didn't seem to bother him," the elf muttered.
Crow looked up at the elf, old anger in his eyes. "That's enough, Resolute. He is my father, whether or not he considered me to be alive or dead. The word of a prince had far more worth to him than that of one who was barely more than a child. Leave me here a moment."
The statement was more a command than a simple request. Resolute stalked off a fair distance, but removed the sword from his sheath, as if certain ambush was to come. Crow turned his black eyes away from his partner to looking at the gravestone before him. He knew the grave did not actually contain his father's remains as his father's body would have been burned in the manner of the Order of the Phoenix. Still, it was proper to have a marker for future generations to visit.
Crow pulled out a glimmering white temeryx feather from his pocket and fingered it. He still couldn't believe that his father, the one to Kenwick Norrington had often looked was dead. To him, his father would always be an aging man who was still very much to be respected for his abilities.
"Now Oriosa has lost its last true hero," Crow said roughly as he placed the feather at the base of the grave. "And she shall never know what she is missing."
He raised his scarred right hand and traced the family name prominent on the stone slowly. "You told me that there was always a Hawkins at the side of the Norrington," Crow said slowly, "But now the two Norringtons serve Chytraine and your sons are adrift in this insane world."
He got up from his knees, brushed off his pants and began to walk away slowly. He turned toward the grave for one last look. "You were so proud when I first killed a temeryx, that I was to go with the Norrintons on that ill-fated mission. I can understand why you chose to do what you did when Scrainwood painted me as the traitor, but it took me a long time to be able to understand. When you came in there and took my mask away in front of everyone else, I died. I still consider you as my father, but I am no longer the son you knew. I wish you would have believed that I never would have betrayed Lord Norrington, betrayed you that way. I wish I could still be Tarrant Hawkins, but I can't."
Crow walked off in Resolute's direction. He moved on toward the road that led away from his childhood home, not speaking to the Vorquelf. The last icon of his childhood was gone, and he truly felt adrift again, like the day his father had taken his mask.
"We shouldn't be here," he said harshly, "They could arrest you at any moment."
"So you've said a hundred times since we started on our journey here," the man said drily, "But it isn't every day that you lose a father. I had to come here, despite the danger, despite how long it took to get here."
"Your father lost a son years ago and it didn't seem to bother him," the elf muttered.
Crow looked up at the elf, old anger in his eyes. "That's enough, Resolute. He is my father, whether or not he considered me to be alive or dead. The word of a prince had far more worth to him than that of one who was barely more than a child. Leave me here a moment."
The statement was more a command than a simple request. Resolute stalked off a fair distance, but removed the sword from his sheath, as if certain ambush was to come. Crow turned his black eyes away from his partner to looking at the gravestone before him. He knew the grave did not actually contain his father's remains as his father's body would have been burned in the manner of the Order of the Phoenix. Still, it was proper to have a marker for future generations to visit.
Crow pulled out a glimmering white temeryx feather from his pocket and fingered it. He still couldn't believe that his father, the one to Kenwick Norrington had often looked was dead. To him, his father would always be an aging man who was still very much to be respected for his abilities.
"Now Oriosa has lost its last true hero," Crow said roughly as he placed the feather at the base of the grave. "And she shall never know what she is missing."
He raised his scarred right hand and traced the family name prominent on the stone slowly. "You told me that there was always a Hawkins at the side of the Norrington," Crow said slowly, "But now the two Norringtons serve Chytraine and your sons are adrift in this insane world."
He got up from his knees, brushed off his pants and began to walk away slowly. He turned toward the grave for one last look. "You were so proud when I first killed a temeryx, that I was to go with the Norrintons on that ill-fated mission. I can understand why you chose to do what you did when Scrainwood painted me as the traitor, but it took me a long time to be able to understand. When you came in there and took my mask away in front of everyone else, I died. I still consider you as my father, but I am no longer the son you knew. I wish you would have believed that I never would have betrayed Lord Norrington, betrayed you that way. I wish I could still be Tarrant Hawkins, but I can't."
Crow walked off in Resolute's direction. He moved on toward the road that led away from his childhood home, not speaking to the Vorquelf. The last icon of his childhood was gone, and he truly felt adrift again, like the day his father had taken his mask.