For All the Fallen
By Rillan macDhai
This little epilogue is mostly for the people who are also reading Rogue Magick, but since I had this part posted as a stand alone story, I didn't want to jank it just yet. Not sure it makes a great deal of sense without all of the story with it, but I'll have to think about that. Meanwhile, it's a look at another POV on the story.
Bloodwhiskey.
Tal smiled. Nothing quite like drinking a toast to my own death. The essence of the alcohol and blood still burned his throat in memory.
He leaned carefully against the wall behind the chair he wished he could have been sitting in, but it would have put him too close to Firesworn and his human companion. He did not want either of them noticing the cold spot his being there created. Or for anyone else to notice it either, though he suspected the Zandalaran troll emissary knew he was wandering around somewhere in the inn.
At least I was able to break the bond with my mage. Now if Arthas' casts his net, he won't be caught along with me. Wouldn't have thought the bond could be broken like this when it didn't break when they killed me in Ahn'kahet. Maybe I just had to tell him I was dead? And I wonder, is Arthas' dead? Wouldn't I know? Wouldn't I have felt something? It leaves some interesting possibilities if I'm truly free.
Best not to trust it.
So, my fire-sworn mage, just who is this Nightfrost you set a glass for