Valygar had turned aside to Merella's cabin, carrying her remains. At her place, nature had been recalcitrant at times, just the way she liked it, and already it was reclaiming the cabin with a vengeance — grass peeping up through the floorboards, the first vines pulling back the wallboards with their tendrils, crocuses coming up within the ring of her small fire pit outdoors.
Something about this didn't seem right to him. Wasn't it enough that all of Imnesvale had seemingly forgotten her already?
He recalled that Merella had called upon his help often, knowing well her own limitations. He was better suited for stalking men in the shadows, while she much preferred to hunt and scout by day, moving amongst the villagers and teaching any children who came near her place. Being lost in endless night — for her, being held captive by the Shade Lord had to have been a kind of death already, before her body surrendered its ghost.
He removed a shovel that was leaning against the side of the cabin wall, long green vine-fingers fighting him the entire time. His feet carried him to Merella's favorite tree, a stout old oak that was some way into the woods away from the cabin and the road.
He carefully dug around its roots, making a small hole about two feet deep and six inches wide. Gently and reverently, he opened the jar containing Merella's mortal remains, emptying it into the small hole he had made, until all the grey ash had settled in. He covered them with the dirt, until the last sign of Merella had been buried in the place she had often walked.
He felt he ought to say something, but he was not one to offer words where they weren't needed. Wherever Merella's spirit was, he thought, anything he could say would not impact its course. She would have loved having her remains feed her favorite tree, he thought, and found some comfort that, in the end, Merella had taken her place in the balance.
Deeper in the woods, something made a noise, and he looked up. Off in the distance was a female roe deer, a swift, limber, reddish-brown creature who froze in place, then bounded down the path towards the bluffs.
He'd seen many like her, but something about this one's wide brown eyes were unsettling.
He turned aside to the cabin. If the wolves hadn't already carried off the body in the bed, then he ought to give this one decent burial, too.
He glanced one more time towards where the roe had run, but the creature had faded into the woods.
He set the entire mattress and blankets, along with the body, on fire — by now, the corpse was rotting, and the liquids had soaked through the sheets, carrying gods-knew-what kinds of disease with it. The impromptu funeral pyre burned nicely, leaving a long scar of ash upon the moist, dew-fed soil and ready to feed the new grass.
He went back inside the house, having a mind to go through some of her documents and preserve them. She kept extensive notes, likely full of useful information about the surrounding woods. And if she had any living family that might want her possessions, that's where he'd learn of them.
His thought was broken by a sudden knock at the door.
He could already guess who it was, even before he answered it. For one thing, he could count on one hand the number of people he knew that would choose to knock only two feet above the ground.
Mazzy Fentan was on the threshold, her bare, hairy feet smeared with soil. She hardly seemed bothered, though. She was as composed as usual, but a thin sheen of sweat lined her face, and her mass of red hair had leaves and twigs stuck in it. She was unarmed — what kind of haste had carried her this far out here?
"Goodman Valygar, I find that I need your assistance once again."
She made her request politely, but Valygar could tell he likely had little choice in the matter.
"Say no more," he said, checking to make sure that his curved sword was safely fastened to his belt. "Lead and I'll follow."
As they pressed deeper into the woods, Mazzy hurriedly explained — one of the Baron's druids, Lette, had fled Imnesvale through this way.
"Perhaps she had more to do with the Shade Lord than we thought," she said, "and if so, it is high time she owed us an explanation. She can't be allowed to get away."
A memory pulled at Valygar, and he had to stop and think for a moment to pay attention to what it was saying, why it was so insistent.
But it turned him back towards the last time he'd seen Lette face-to-face. She'd come to Merella's cabin then, chosen to arrive shifted into a form that wouldn't raise any suspicions…
"This way," he said, and started winding through the trees, tracing a path towards the bluffs, half-running and with Mazzy following close behind.