The terra is silent, nothing stirring, save the breeze.
He stands at the peak of a small cliff, staring at the sky before him, glowing blue.
Watches the clouds drift by.
He feels the small weight on his back, the sword, strapped safely to him. He doesn't think he'll be using it much, anymore.
And then he glances at the tiny mounds of earth, sticking up from the ground. Two tiny crystals. Buried alone, yet buried together.
A traitor. Was that all he was? A spinner, a turner, a double crosser. Perhaps he HAD changed. Then again...
"Where will you go?" the girl had asked.
"I'll go where the wind takes me."
He won't join their side, not for the world. But he won't go back either. There's nothing to return to.
Where the wind takes him.
He'll make his own side to choose. His own road to follow.
He nods at the graves, then winks at the sky.
Time to fly again.