29th Day of Ready'reat, 565 CY

The Brass Dragon Inn, Furyondy

Another goodbye, thought Caroline.

The temperature had dipped just below freezing yesterday, making the remnants of the frozen grass crunch underneath her feet as she slowly approached Gylandir, who stood bereft of saddle or reins, waiting for her and the others near the firepit.

Lady Bigfellow glanced at the pit, seeing it not cold and ashen as it was now, but as it was four days ago; the fire leaping towards the sky as it consumed the equine form at its heart.

She glanced behind her. Zantac, Nesco, Laertes and Cygnus were still walking in lockstep a few feet behind. The latter's eyes met hers briefly, and Caroline wondered if the tall mage had recognized the memory in her face, even if he did not share it.

The memory of watching this same firepit as two bodies burnt to ashes in it.

She wondered where Sir Dorbin and his party were now. It was unlikely they would ever meet again.

But there was no time for those thoughts now. Gylandir was here, and she owed the pegasus this moment.

This farewell.

Both magic-users had the tongues spell in their tomes, but it had not been necessary for either mage to resort to it. Gylandir's bearing and expression after the murder of his mate by Alabin had made it very plain that he could no longer stay.

Caroline tried to see the positive in this. The strange series of events years past which had ended with both pegasi deciding to willingly serve Caroline and her husband was something no one could have predicted on either side, and Lady Bigfellow knew she and Argo had been blessed. Not outside of the Olympian myths that she knew so well had she ever heard of pegasi living with humans and serving them for any length of time without any form of payment.

And yet right now, Caroline Bigfellow felt anything but positive.

She let the others have their goodbyes first. Of the other four individuals present, only Cygnus had any long history with the winged steeds. Their young stable boy, Noah, knew the pegasi well, but he had already had his private farewell with Gylandir earlier this morning.

Nesco, Zantac and Laertes settled for gentle words and briefly stroking the side of Gylandir's face.

Caroline could see the burn scar on the pegasus' chest where the barbed devil's scorching rays had set him alight. Neither he nor Sequester had ever made known any complaint. They had been faithful and loyal.

To the end.

The others stepped aside. Caroline was about to walk right up to the pegasus, but he walked over to her first.

His large brown eyes said it all.

Caroline couldn't believe she had been thinking of her own sorrow. Sequester was gone. The only equivalent situation for Caroline would be if someone had murdered Argo.

Not, she knew, that a day ever went by without that scenario flashing through her mind, if only for a second.

Gylandir moved his head to within inches of Caroline's face, and she knew that, somehow, he knew her thoughts.

The pegasus whickered and blew air through his nostrils.

Tell Argo.

"I will," whispered Caroline as she hugged the winged horse. "Thank you, Gylandir, for everything."

The pegasus was a blur through her tears.

"I'm sorry."

The animal nodded and turned off to the side. It walked off a few paces, and then stopped. Gylandir's face was upturned to the sky.

Then the pegasus walked a few more steps, broke into a cantor and then a gallop, and then the white wings unfurled, and it launched itself into the sky.

Four humans and one half-orc watched it grow smaller and smaller until it vanished into the low clouds which covered the whole sky.

Caroline let out a long breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, and then slowly began to walk back towards the Brass Dragon. She could really use a drink.

The others passed her, talking in low murmurs among themselves. They were walking a little faster than she was, so tt wasn't until they were almost ten feet in front of her that she realized that Zantac wasn't among them.

Caroline looked behind her. Zantac was heading back to the inn as well, but he was walking even more slowly than she was. The wizard had his red hood over his head, and he looked only at the ground beneath his feet.

An image of Flond burst into Caroline's brain.

Lady Bigfellow stopped, letting the magic-user draw even with her. He looked up as he realized he wasn't alone.

Caroline caught her breath again. Zantac's eyes were red, and his face pale. His mouth was a thin line. The misery in his face was as real and palpable as anything else around them.

And Caroline Bigfellow immediately knew why.

"Zantac," she began, laying a hand on the mage's shoulder.

"Some prank, huh?"

"Zantac," she repeated. "It wasn't-"

"Yeah, I know," the Willip wizard replied in a monotone. "Not my fault. Cygnus has already given me the whole sermon, Caroline. Things happen. No one could have foreseen it."

Zantac abruptly picked up his pace, leaving Caroline behind. He changed his direction as well. He was now heading towards his cabin.

Caroline stopped dead. When she looked over, she saw that the other four individuals had halted as well and were now following Zantac's progress with their eyes. Caroline shook her head at them and picked up her pace, signaling with her hands that they should all proceed to the inn.

Zantac, she knew, wanted to be alone, and it was an obvious matter of friendship that they should all honor his wish.

The problem was, Caroline thought, as she entered the Brass Dragon right behind the others, was that, at least for her, being alone wasn't ever being really alone.

Your true thoughts, and your feelings, were all waiting for you.