3rd Day of Planting, 565 CY
Prindath, Amoria, The Blessed Fields of Elysium
Tad sat very still. His mouth moved, but no sound came out. The look in his eyes though, was all too easy for his grandfather to translate.
"I know it sounds cruel, dear child, but the sad truth of the matter is that you now know too much."
"What?" Tadoa's voice filled with equal parts sadness, fear and confusion. "How can you say that, grandfather? How can I possibly know too much? I don't know anything!" he shouted.
The tavern went quiet. Neither elf looked around at the petitioners that they knew were now eyeing them in curiosity.
Lemontharz again folded his hands on the table in front of him. "You know that I am still alive, Tadoa. You know what my goals are. I know to you that knowledge may seem insubstantial, but believe me, it is not. If I am certain of anything from my long studies of Fate, it is that things would go very poorly for Elrohir and his friends if you were to return to them with that knowledge." The old elf's mouth curved in another bitter smile. "And even if you vowed to remain silent, you know that your foes have other ways of finding things out, don't you?"
Tad was trembling. He stared at his grandfather, and he could feel an anger slowly building in him. The child pressed his eyes together tightly for a moment. This was not fair. He had already been through a lifetime of pain. He had already gone through a living nightmare few others had ever had to endure. He hadn't even left Elysium, and it was already starting again.
And that made him even angrier.
"You didn't have to do it that way," he hissed at the sorcerer. "You could have brought me here, healed me and returned me to Oerth without my ever knowing who you were! Don't tell me you couldn't have!"
Lemontharz nodded slowly. "Indeed. It could have been done that way."
"Then why?" Tadoa slammed his fist down on the table, rattling their plates and knives. The tears were starting again, and that only fueled his anger further. Tad was tired of crying, so he wiped his eyes angrily and glared as hard as he could at his grandfather. He could see the old elf's body trembling, and that gave the child a wicked satisfaction that he was aware of but could not deny. Or at the moment, even wanted to.
"Was that fair to me, grandfather?" Tadoa asked, a note of pleading creeping involuntarily into his voice. "Was it?"
The elder elf slowly shook his head. "No, Tad, it was not."
"Then why-"
"Because I need you, Tadoa Falail." Lemontharz cut him off. "I need you."
Tadoa took a deep breath, and slowly sat back down on his seat. He never took his eyes off his grandfather, but he could see some of the other tavern patrons who had stood up with his initial outburst, slowly sit down as well. Their eyes remained riveted on the two elves, however.
Lemontharz still looked as if a strong push might send him toppling to the floor, where he would shatter into a million pieces. It struck Tad as ironic that the all-powerful Lemontharz Falail, who could take on an army single-handedly, was at the absolute mercy of a mere child.
His heart perhaps, but not his will. The thought steeled the boy's resolve. Just as he had once decided in the lair of the Emerald Serpent, he decided that he would not be a victim of the decisions of others again.
He threw aside the thought that his former resolve back then had swiftly vanished in that first blaze of agony. The child crossed his arms and kept his gaze up.
"You need me, grandfather?" he asked snidely. "You need another pawn?"
Lemontharz shook his head. "No, Tadoa. I need another king."
The statement hung in the air. Tad eyes dropped momentarily as he tried to think what it might mean, and he could feel his contemplation slowly begin to push out his anger. He made a conscious decision to hold on to some of his indignation, however.
When he looked back at his grandfather, Tad caught his breath. The old elf had stood, placed his hands on the table and leaned forward as far as he could toward his grandson.
"Look at me," he whispered.
Tadoa stared into his grandfather's eyes and saw the cloudiness within them.
The child squinted. The cloudiness was not total; it seemed to cover perhaps only the top third of the sorcerer's eyes. Covered them with a translucent rainbow of white.
Astonishment once again took sole possession of Tadoa.
Lemontharz nodded. "Yes, my dear boy. I am dying."
Tad tried to think of something to say and failed utterly. His grandfather slowly sat back down.
"I do not know how much more time I have, Tadoa," he said softly. "Perhaps a year, perhaps several decades. But it is only now, in the twilight, when I finally understand that human expression. That phrase that stands so firmly as the very definition of the differences between us."
Tad still could not speak.
Lemontharz looked at his grandson, and a small but genuine smile appeared on his face.
"So much to do, so little time."
Before he even knew what he was doing, Tadoa had mirrored his smile. He had heard that phrase from Elrohir and his friends many times before.
As gently as he dared, Lemontharz continued. "You will stay with me for a short time Tad, while I instruct you in the rudiments of what you will need to know. Then, you will go with Keasten and Ehlissa. I will tell them just enough that they need to know. They will be able to teach you many other useful things, as well. From there- we will see. For now, it is time for both of us to move on."
Lemontharz leaned back and let his grandson think. Tadoa's mind was as confused as it ever had been, and considering the events of the past few weeks, that was saying a lot.
The boy debated his options (and he knew he had them. He knew that Lemontharz would not literally force him to do anything he did not want to do). The old elf, damn him, was relying on Tadoa to make the right choice himself. A quick glance at his grandfather confirmed that expectation.
Tadoa Falail closed his eyes. His mind knew what he was going to do. He was just waiting for his heart to catch up.
He opened his eyes again.
"May I see them one last time, grandfather?" he asked, trying once again to hold back unwanted tears. "Just to say goodbye?"
The sorcerer considered for a moment. His eyes wandered, and then came back to rest on his grandson's face.
"I will give them a message from you, Tad," he said. "It will be third-hand, so it cannot be traced back to me." The old elf fumbled around in a belt pouch for a while, and managed to produce a crumpled piece of parchment, a small quill and a number of lengths of short copper wire. He spread the parchment out on the table and looked up at the youth. Tell me what you wish to say."
Tad took a deep breath and began. By the time he finished, he was crying again. His grandfather, having cast the needed spells, dabbed at his moist eyes, as well.
"Tears in Elysium."
The statement, uttered in the Common tongue, came from right beside their table. Tad's head snapped around to see a very tall elf eyeing them both.
The elf's hair was so bright red, Tad could swear that, if he looked at it out of the corner of his eyes, it might have been aflame. The elf's pupils showed the samebright red as well, but the irises were the familiar elven green. He wore a forest green leather tunic with an upturned collar. Around his neck was a thin silver chain, which was threaded through a disc of wood, perhaps six inches across.
Carved in relief on the wood were three moons. One full, one waxing and one waning.
The elf smiled grimly. "Even if I did not know you, Lemontharz of Rolex, it would be plain that neither you nor your young companion are natives here. Tears are only in their past, not their present."
Lemontharz bowed his head. "Greetings again, Exius of Arborea." The sorcerer then indicated his relative. "May I introduce Tadoa Falail of Rolex, my grandson. Tadoa, this is Exius, a firre from the Forested Glades."
The boy gulped. Firres were eladrins, spirits of the Upper Planes, revered by elves as far as he knew, on all three worlds. He responded, "Pleased to meet you, Exius," in a voice that sounded too child-like to his own ears.
The firre laughed, a joyous sound that rang throughout the tavern.
"So formal! This one spends too much time with you, Lemontharz!" The eladrin turned back to the elder elf. "You two need to relax- live a little!"
Lemontharz returned the smile but said nothing.
"I come to tell you the ship has just returned to the waters of Aquallor," Exius said. "I trust the mortals you loaned it to, appreciated the gesture?"
The mage nodded. "I have no doubt that they did. Again Exius, please render my heartfelt thanks to all those involved for its use."
Exius' grin widened even further, if that were possible. "I shall. And now if you'll forgive me, I'm going to go sample some Elysium brews, and compare them to our Arborean elixirs. An unfair comparison, to be sure, but the fun is in the trying!" With a wink at Tadoa, the firre moved off towards the bar.
"What ship?" Tadoa asked, still unconsciously speaking in Common.
"I have been watching over Elrohir and his friends for several months now," the sorcerer replied in kind. "Not often, to be sure, but here and there. When I discovered that they might need my aid, and that it might be possible to render that aid without my being physically present, I called in some favors."
"Wasn't that tempting Fate?" Tad asked, just a hint of an edge in his tone.
Lemontharz seemed to consider an unusually long time before responding.
"Perhaps. I had no specific knowledge that aiding them would do more harm than good in the long run, as I have in other matters," he said, once more staring intently at his grandson, before his eyes wandered again, and an easy smile graced his face. "But they are good friends, and good people. It is unlikely that I have will have such an opportunity to save them again. Once again, I found myself guided by one of those inexplicable catchphrases humans seem to love so much."
Tadoa raised an eyebrow. "And which one was that?"
The sorcerer's aged face and clouded eyes could not hide the unmistakable hint of mischief Tad saw there as Lemontharz replied.
"What the hell."
There was silence for a while. Tad was still trying to sort this all out. He had already decided he would go along with his grandfather's wishes. He remembered that spiritual aching he had experienced back at the Brass Dragon Inn, shortly before his kidnapping. There seemed to be some sort of connection to his current condition, although he couldn't even begin to try analyzing it, even in his own mind. Not yet.
But something told him that what he had to do was also what he should do.
The child took another deep breath, filling his lungs with the delicious air of Elysium, almost as wonderful as the food and drink here. He concentrated on calming his mind and body, and was relieved to feel the anger and tension slowly start to slip away again. It was only a beginning he knew, but for now, it was enough.
When he opened his eyes again, his grandfather was again fumbling with his belt pouch, and extracting a large and quite beautiful blue-white gem from it that Tadoa quickly recognized as a sapphire. Lemontharz held the gem in his left hand just above the table. His right hand was alongside, palm up, with the fingers splayed up and outwards, as if he were holding an invisible platter upon it.
Tad gave his relative a wry look. "I had no idea Prindath was so expensive. Perhaps we should eat outdoors more often."
It was only with great difficulty that Lemontharz was able to avoid bursting out into open laughter. As it was, it took him several seconds to regain his composure. When he did he returned his grandson's smile, although the mage's held a touch of sorrow.
"You always had the most wonderful sense of humor, Tad. Just like your cousin Robin."
That caught the child off-guard for a moment. "My uncle Triton's son? The half-human?" Tad considered. "I never really knew him."
He was surprised to see that Lemontharz was now frowning.
"Robin was half-human, Tad," he said sternly. "He was not a half-human, any more than his father Triton was an elf , or his mother Liona was a human. We are not defined by our race, any more than we are defined by the color of our skin, the gods we worship, or the foods we eat."
Tad glanced down, embarrassed. As was often his way, he tried to subtly redirect the subject away from his failure. "Robin- you took him along when you first went to scout out Aarde, didn't you?"
The sorcerer nodded.
Tad swallowed hard. "He's dead, isn't he?" Something suddenly seemed to click into place. "He was going to be your replacement, wasn't he? But he died, so now it's me? And if I die, you'll try someone else, won't you?"
"Yes, dear boy. I will do what I have to do until the moment that I myself die." Lemontharz again looked frail to his grandson's eyes. Those clouded eyes again regarded him, moist again now. "How I wish I had the time to tell you everything, to help you understand, and not thrust you into this position unprepared. I am so sorry, my dear boy… I am so sorry." He tried to smile but looked away, his eyes blinking rapidly. "So much to do, so little time…" he whispered.
Tadoa surprised himself. He leaned forward, took his grandfather's trembling right hand in both of his, and gave him his best nonchalant grin. "Ah, grandfather…" he said.
Lemontharz looked at him questioningly.
"What the hell."
This time, neither of them bothered to control their laughter.
When Tadoa was just about done getting his wind back, he heard his grandfather mumbling something he could not understand. When he looked across the table again, he understood instantly that it had been an arcane incantation.
Nothing remained of the sapphire except some shiny dust on the tablecloth. In the aged sorcerer's right hand however, a large oval mirror balanced, somewhat precariously. Lemontharz grabbed it by the frame just as it started to slip, then gently laid it out on the table between them, Tad moving plates out of the way as needed.
It was made not of glass, but of polished silver, beaten very thin. It was about two feet long and almost four feet wide. It sported a thin frame, made out of a metal Tad could not identify immediately. A silver alloy, perhaps. It sported a design of varied leaves and branches. Tad ran his fingers along it. The boy knew little of the crafts involved in making such an item, but he knew a masterpiece of work when he saw it.
"You wanted to see them one last time."
Lemontharz's voice was so soft, Tadoa barely heard it.
The child gasped and looked up sharply. His grandfather gave him a sad smile and waved his hand over the mirror's surface. "Keep in mind, this mirror was not designed for cross-planar viewing. I do not know how long it may last."
The old sorcerer might have said more, but Tad didn't hear it. He was staring down, openmouthed, as his reflection began to ripple, and then dissolve. The mirror turned smoky…
And remained smoky.
Tad frowned and was about to question Lemontharz about this, when he began to see movement in the smoke. He leaned forward, squinting his eyes.
Gradually, he began to discern a large, circular table take shape. He knew instantly it was a tavern table, and less than one second later he realized it was not one of the Brass Dragon's. Nine figures were sitting themselves down around the table. Other figures moved in and out of the scene. Slowly, Tadoa began to hear voices, although he had already recognized his friends. The view was from almost directly above the table, although when someone spoke, the sensor seemed to swoop a little down and around, so that their face was visible. They seemed to be ordering a meal.
The young elf frowned. A lot of smoke still remained in the picture, and it was clearly inside the tavern he was looking at. From time to time, one of the seated figures would wave his or her arms, as if trying to blow it away.
Tad could feel the lump beginning to grow in his throat.
"We should have gone elsewhere, Elrohir!" Cygnus exclaimed between coughing fits.
His friend rolled his eyes, although only half-heartedly. "The Billet was packed, Cygnus, and frankly I don't trust anyplace I haven't been in before." The ranger swept an arm around. "The smoke from that street fire should dissipate soon enough, and besides," he continued, his voice rising, "perhaps the fine staff of the Willow Tree will give us a discount for not abandoning them like so many of their other customers have!"
A voice came from off to the left, from where Tad guessed the bar was. "Why not? Smoke goes away, unlike high prices. Tell you what- if you guys double your prices again at the Brass Dragon, this meal's on me!"
Cygnus scowled but Talass, sitting to his left, only smiled grimly at him. "Seems like you're not the only one who's always looking to get what you want for the cheapest price."
"How would you like a fire a little closer to home?" Cygnus mumbled, but he fooled no one.
"Ow!" Cygnus exclaimed, swatting the ranger's hand away and rubbing his collarbone. "I'd gladly appreciate your healing my shoulder though, Talass, from the mauling Argo Strongfellow here has just given it!"
Argo winked at his wife, sitting to his right, and then smiled as their drinks arrived. "Count your blessings, my friend," he said to Cygnus. "At least we won't have to endure the presence of the Slave Lord all the way back to Chendl!"
Elrohir frowned. "I'm still not sure that was a wise idea, " he grumbled, pulling a long drink of ale. "Having him sent on ahead. It seems that whenever we rely on someone else to do something for us, something goes wrong."
"I'm sure there will be no difficulties," offered Aslan, who was sitting to Elrohir's left. "The Mayor's office said Sir Charlt would handle it, and I put my trust in him."
"Ah, yes. Success guaranteed by the Royal Order of Pompous Blowhards," cut in Argo, with a wicked grin. "You renew your membership yet, Aslan?"
The paladin gave Argo the look of disdain that he knew the ranger was just waiting for before sampling the wine he had been served.
"In any case," managed Zantac after several hearty coughs, "am I correct in assuming we will stay here in Willip tonight, leave at sunup, stay over the Brass Dragon tomorrow night, and then it's back to Chendl?"
Caroline, to the wizard's left, nodded. "Is there a problem, Zantac?" she asked, more out of curiosity than irritation.
The red-robed mage shook his head, but his face was grim. "No, as long as I don't run into anyone from the guild while we're here. I'm sure Zelhile would just to love to-"
"Sweep you under the rug?" finished Cygnus with a smile.
Zantac grimaced. "Don't you start, beanpole."
Tad smiled as he watched his friends and listened in on their conversation. Their camaraderie. He was going to miss that more than anything. He was about to give in to despair again when he remembered Elrohir's father and his companions. They too had shared that special bond of friendship and had allowed Tadoa a special place inside their circle. Now, as he watched Elrohir and the others in the mirror below him, Tad was able to, if only a little, place it all into perspective. He, Tadoa Falail, was going to live a long, long, time compared to a human's lifespan. Even if he were to return to them this instant, he knew that it would not last forever. He risked a glance at his grandfather, but Lemontharz was still staring intently into the mirror, his expression unreadable.
"What about Tad?"
Tadoa's attention was pulled back down to the conversation below, as surely as if someone in the Willow Tree had snared it with an extradimensional lasso and yanked hard.
The elf frowned. The questioner was a young human female sitting between Zantac and Tojo that he did not recognize. She was perhaps Argo's age, with short brown hair and a somewhat olive-toned complexion. She bore a longsword in a scabbard on her hip, and her longbow leaned up against the table.
Elrohir sighed, looked down and interlaced his hands together in front of him, almost as if he were in prayer. Tad, looking down, realized his hands were folded in exactly the same way. The child let them drop to his sides with a look of embarrassment.
"We've discussed this among ourselves, Nesco," Elrohir said. "We have a job to do. It may or may not be completed when we arrive at Chendl, but it most certainly is not until we get there. Now, we may be forgiven for this…"
The ranger's voice started to crack as he glanced upwards. Tad flinched involuntarily, as if Elrohir could actually see him. He couldn't of course, but the young elf could see the emotion in those deep blue eyes.
"… or we may not," he continued, "but we've all decided we're going to live with the consequences." The ranger took another deep drink of ale and went on. "Tad may still be alive, or he may not-"
"He is."
The voice had come from off to the right. The sensor did not move, so Tadoa could only watch in frustration as he watched nine heads turn towards the new speaker. He squirmed in his seat with frustration.
"Who is that, grandfather?"
The old elf smiled at him. "Have you forgotten her already, my dear boy?'
Tad's eyes widened, and he looked below just in time to see the young woman in her gold and white surplice move into view. The boy chided himself for not remembering.
"Jinella!"
It was Talass who first greeted her fellow cleric, raising and taking her hands in her own. They bowed slightly to each other, smiling.
"Blessings upon the valorous." Jinella's smile encompassed them all. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"
"With news like that, feel free anytime," replied Elrohir, smiling in return, before a state of anxiety crossed his features. "But how do you know? Have you seen him? Is he with you?"
The others leaned forward expectantly. Jinella merely brushed her hair back from her face and gave them a sad, if kindly look.
"Alas, no. I do not know where he is;, only that he is safe, and he brings a message to you."
Tad glanced up at Lemontharz, who returned his gaze, lifted an eyebrow, and then returned his attention to the scene below.
Jinella was unfolding a scroll. Tad noticed that her hands were trembling.
"Just a short while ago," she began, "two elves arrived at the Valorous Temple. They claimed they had received multiple sendings from an individual they would not identify."
Several of those around the table frowned in skepticism, but Jinella raised a hand.
"A zone of truth confirms their tale. Now, I am certain they know more than they said, and my church is attempting as we speak to find out the underlying facts here, but I am also certain that the message is true, and these are the free and uncoerced words of your young elven friend. I have written it down here as I heard it."
The priestess coughed several times, and then began reading from the scroll.
"To all my dearest friends, I, Tadoa, bring you this final message…"
Huh? Tad's head snapped up to stare at Lemontharz. He had deliberately put Tadoa Falail in the message, in a hope that hearing his seldom-used family name might put some of them, such as Elrohir or Cygnus, on the right track. His grandfather had been ahead of him however and had obviously censored that out. Rather than face any look Lemontharz might give him, Tadoa just frowned and returned his attention to the mirror.
No one at the table said anything. Tad could see Caroline reach out and squeeze her husband's hand.
The young elf could hear his heart pounding in his chest. Jinella continued.
"Sometimes things happen to us, and there is no time to explain. Know that I have been rescued from the clutches of the Emerald Serpent and am now as safe as any of you."
Cygnus gave a sound halfway between a snort and a grunt, but Tad had chosen his words carefully. He did not wish to give them any false impressions.
"Talass."
Startled at being singled out, the cleric could only stare at Jinella, wide-eyed. The priestess of Heironeous smiled at her with her eyes as she continued reading.
"You taught me about justice with your faith, and about love with your family. I will miss you always."
Talass looked like she was trying to speak but couldn't. She rubbed at her eyes, mumbling something about the smoke, but wasn't fooling anyone, and she knew it. The priestess of Forseti cleared her throat and smiled at Jinella as if she were smiling at Tadoa himself.
"Bless you, my child. Bless you always."
Jinella turned to Cygnus.
"Cygnus, I will miss you more than words can ever say. Know that Thorin is safe…"
Tad looked up in alarm briefly at his grandfather. He had not bothered to verify the truthfulness of that statement before putting it into the message, but Lemontharz showed no reaction, so Tad could only hope it was true.
"… and say goodbye to him for me. As a friend, I could think of no elf who would be more loyal than him, or you."
Cygnus stared down at his drink. When he looked up, Jinella's eyes were still on him.
The wizard cleared his throat. "Thank you, Tad. May the All-Father's kindly eye watch over you always." He coughed and looked down again, as if he were angry at himself for not be able to think of anything more profound.
Everyone else at the table held their breath, wondering whom Jinella would address next.
"Argo Bigfellow Junior."
Caroline could feel Argo's hand tighten in hers.
Oddly, a blush was now rising in Jinella's face. "Err- you have always embraced a free spirit Argo, and that will always help me soar when troubles cloud my path. You taught me how to have fun through seeing your smile, and… and… and about sex from watching through the peephole in your cabin wall."
The table exploded in various laughs, guffaws, oh my gods, and other exclamations. Poor Caroline turned beet red and would have slunk under the table if her husband's hand had not been clamped firmly around hers. The ranger's face had a big, beautiful smile, devoid of embarrassment and anything else other than love.
Jinella managed to croak out the last of it. "I think you still need a little work."
The tumult doubled in volume. Zantac pounded the table, mixing laughter with coughs. Elrohir's chuckles brought tears to his face. Cygnus' smile went from ear to ear. Caroline threw back her head and howled with laughter. It wasn't that it was true, it's just that it was funny, and it was- it was so Tad. Even Talass couldn't keep the grin off her face.
Argo had on a pie-in-the-face expression no one had ever seen the ranger wear before. Just for once, the master of the witty quip and quick retort was speechless.
Aslan just couldn't help it.
"I could bring over some carrots, Argo."
Argo's laughter shook the rafters of the Willow Tree. The others, not getting the reference, stared patiently as Argo nearly fell off his seat in a paroxysm of mirth. The ranger was about to recover, saw Tojo gazing at him with his usual blank expression, and went right back into another fit of laughter. Only Jinella was glad it took for the time Bigfellow spent to regain his composure, as she used it to push her hair back away from her face again and beat down the blush in her own cheeks before continuing.
"Caroline Bigfellow."
Tears of laughter still streaming down her face, Caroline gasped. She had a feeling this was going to be hard to take.
"You taught me how to fight, and if I should ever find that love that everyone says I will one day, I will know how to do it right, body and soul, thanks to you."
Caroline's tears turned to those of sadness. She could only get out a "Thank you," before leaning into her husband's shoulder and giving a soft wail. Argo enfolded his wife as best he could and let her cry. He looked about to join her himself, and the mood around the table turned solemn again.
Jinella waited a bit, and then resumed. "Zantac."
The wizard looked up, surprised. He hadn't known Tad that long, only about a month, and hadn't expected to be included in this. Jinella of course, already knew the message, so she favored the Willip mage with a smile as she read.
"What a wonderful person you must be to impress both me and my friends in such a short amount of time. I know what you've given up in order to stay with us, Zantac. I only hope that I can find that kind of selflessness in my soul someday."
Zantac's face nicely matched his robes. This time, he didn't mind Argo's hand on his shoulder. The magic-user stared back at Jinella.
"I had the best to learn from," was all he said, then buried his face in his ale mug.
Nesco watched as Jinella's eyes met hers momentarily, and then moved towards Tojo.
The ranger held up her hand. "Wait!" she said.
The others gazed at her puzzled. Cynewine took a deep breath and looked around her. "I did not know Tadoa you speak of, of course, but with your blessings, I would like to propose a toast."
There were no objections. Nesco held out her cup of mead.
"To Tadoa," she said.
Tad, looking down, was surprised at the depth of emotion in her voice. How could this person he had never met be so sorrowful for his departure?
Nesco answered his question with her toast.
"You picked the best people in the world to call your friends. Thank you for sharing them with me."
A chorus of Here, Here and To Tadoa accompanied nine glasses clinking together. After the mugs were set down again, Jinella continued.
"Yanigasawa Tojo."
Nesco could feel the samurai on her right take a deep breath. His violet eyes danced around at the others. Aslan, sitting on Tojo's other side, knew the samurai's nervousness was not in anticipation of anything that Tadoa might have to say to him, but rather in the response the others would be expecting out of him in return.
Tojo's eyes eventually settled on Jinella's. The cleric took her own deep breath and continued reading.
"You are the most honorable person, elf or human, that I have ever known, Tojo-sama," Jinella said. "I revere Tojo the honorable samurai, but I do not love him…"
Tojo blinked at her.
"…I love Tojo the man. I love Tojo, with that great big, wonderful heart. I know it's there, Tojo. Give me a sign. Let it show."
There was the exact expectant hush about the table that Tojo had been anticipating. The samurai hesitated for several seconds, knowing that all eyes were upon him, and then nodded at Jinella.
That was all.
Nesco was confused. "Err, Tojo," she began. "Aren't you going to-"
Tojo fixed a baleful eye upon her, and looking away, Nesco could see that the others, disappointed as they might be, were not about to press the issue. lady Cynewine stared down at the table, aware of her faux pas if not the reason for it.
Maybe I don't know these people as well as I thought.
"Aslan."
The paladin was biting his lip. Elrohir was puzzled. Aslan looked as if he was trying to keep from bursting into tears. Then the realization hit the party leader.
He still blames himself for what happened.
Aslan managed to achieve and maintain a neutral composure as Jinella began.
"You are a noble paladin, the most powerful of psionics, and most of all, a true and loving friend. Do not blame yourself for what happened, Aslan. It was Fate, which even you cannot control. If anything, accept my apology. I could not save your beloved Mirage, and we will both miss him always. If you take away one thing from this Aslan, let it be this. No force can stop you- except yourself. Do not let bitterness take over your heart. Your responsibilities are great, but you have shoulders broad enough, and a soul strong enough, to bear them. Bless you always."
The paladin's hand clutched his glass tightly. Elrohir reached over and gently touched Aslan's arm. The paladin smiled, released his hold on the glass, and looked back at Jinella.
"I- I will always try to make you proud of me, Tad."
Jinella at last turned to Elrohir, who sitting only five feet from her. The cleric smiled sweetly down at him and began.
"I don't know what to say, Elrohir. If I had a thousand words and a thousand years, it still wouldn't be enough. You were not only my companion; you were the father I never had."
Elrohir blinked in surprise. He had never thought of himself as a father figure to Tad.
"You make me proud to be who I am. Say goodbye to Barahir for me. When he is old enough, I know I will see him again, and when I do, I will tell him about Elrohir- the finest human I ever knew."
Tadoa wiped the tears from his eyes. They were falling onto the surface on the mirror, making the image swirl…
No! It wasn't his tears. The image was starting to fade. Tad looked up in panic at his grandfather, but Lemontharz merely whispered, "We were lucky it lasted this long, Tad. It's time to go now. We have a lot of work to do."
"All right," the child whispered, but he held his eyes riveted to the scene below, determined to wring every last drop of this out and into his heart, where he knew he would treasure it forever. Below, a smoky image of Jinella rolled up her scroll and gave the party Tadoa's last words.
"All of you, take care…" the cleric whispered, her own voice starting to go now.
And in two different taverns at the opposite ends of the multiverse, tears fell down two different cheeks as two different lips uttered the same words.
"I love you all."
The sound faded. Tad could just make out the Elrohir party getting up to leave, refusing the plates of food that were now arriving at their tables, but dropping coins onto the table for them. Tad smiled as he saw Zantac stuff a loaf of bread into his robes.
And then, just before the image faded completely, Tadoa Falail saw Yanigasawa Tojo staring at him.
Not at him, of course. That was impossible. He must have spotted the sensor. Yet Tad stared into those violet eyes, and he thought… he thought…
The Land Legs Road was crowded, and still reeked of smoke and burnt wood. People were bumping into and around the party as they swirled around them.
Elrohir gave up on trying to keep everyone together. "We'll meet up at the stables!" he shouted, and was able to see a few heads he recognized nod in acknowledgement.
The ranger would've taken a deep breath, if the air hadn't been so foul. He had expected their first meal on land after so many weeks to be memorable, but nothing like this. No one was hungry anymore. They'd just get new horses at the stables for the long ride to Chendl, then head to the Lord Mayor's residence, where they would-
Elrohir frowned. He had thought he was the last one to leave the Willow Tree tavern, but now he could see Tojo slowly turn around to face the doorway and make his way out, emerging into the sunlight.
"Tojo?"
The samurai had been about to walk right past his party leader but stopped and eyed him with his standard passive blank expression. "Yes, Errohir-san?'
Elrohir frowned. "Was there someone else inside? Someone you recognized?"
Tojo raised an eyebrow.
Now feeling rather foolish, the ranger continued. "I mean… I thought I saw… I guess it was the smoke and all, but it looked like you were bowing to someone in there. A pretty deep one, too."
They stared at each other for a silence for a few moments.
Elrohir was pretty sure he saw a smile curl at the edge of Tojo's mouth, but the samurai simply shook his head.
"No, Errohir-san. No one… in there."
Tojo swept by his party leader and walked briskly towards the stables. Elrohir sighed, took a last look inside the tavern, and followed his friend.
They all had a lot of work to do.