Brother Ilisharan paced back and forth across the floor. The bard seated on the chair watched him curiously. The cleric had asked for a private performance after hearing him play at the town center. It was odd to have a Tyrrian brother ask for a private show, and Frederik had readily agreed, if nothing else it would make for a great new song.

"Please, friend, play for me the song about the Knight Captain of the Sword Coast once more," the Brother had asked.

Frederik had begun the first song that came to mind, but the cleric stopped him rather unceremoniously.

"No...no not that one. The one that talks about her coming back from the dead."

The Brother had listened carefully to the entire song. He paid Frederik generously.

"Tell me friend, without any embellishment, have you been to the Sword Coast, had you seen the Knight Captain for yourself?"

More odd questions. Bards seldom saw anything for themselves. They heard rumors and stories and wrote songs about them with which to earn a living.

"Aye good Brother I have been to the Sword Coast. Twas a tavern in Neverwinter I met another minstrel who taught me that song. Did I see the good Knight Captain? Nay good Brother I did not."

"And the one who taught you this song, did he see the Knight Captain for himself?"

"That I cannot tell you. It was not something I asked her."

Brother Ilisharan paced some more.

"Do you suppose the story is true? Or do you suppose it is simply a rumor, friend?"

Frederik had never been asked such things in his life. One didnt think deeply on the songs or the stories, one simply performed them, collected the coin and went on their way. He respectfully explained this to Brother Ilisharan. The Tyrrian sighed heavily.

"Understood. Please, sing it for me once more."

A favored soul of Tyr was she

with hair as black as ebony

her life she gave to slay a King

a time of peace this deed did bring.

No darkness turned her stalwart heart

Without complaint she played her part

She asked for mercy for those she called friend

That they would find peace at the very end.

They buried her with tears and cries

The woman-child with the sunset eyes

It was not meant for them to know this lack

So it was that the good god brought her back.

She was lost in her mind for time long passed

She did not return to her home so fast

Wandering free, searching for

The one she longed to see once more.

She would not allow the truth to lie

Her heart spoke loud that he did not die

She believed the words she heard inside

Her beloved lived, he had not died.

Where goes the lady with eyes like the sun

Chasing a dream, so long begun

There in her castle, with eyes to the sky

She calls out his name, for he did not die.

Will madness take her, or will she find

Another love to ease her mind

Or will she search, no matter the cost?

For the precious one she loved and lost?

Brother Ilisharan didnt hear the soft footfalls behind him. Casavir walked into the room, his face ashen.

"Brother, that ...that song...he said sunset eyes...what is this about? Why is there a bard here in the room?"

Brother Ilisharan sighed. He could not lie to the paladin, his friend. He wished he had dismissed the song as a romance story out of hand, but his heart was shouting loudly for him to take notice, and one did not ignore ones heart, for that is where Tyr spoke.

"This is Frederik, a bard who sang at the town center today. Frederik, this is my dear friend Sir Casavir."

Frederik stood and bowed. More oddities in one day. He was sure going to have a new song to write by day's end if this kept up. The strange Tyrrian brother and the knight with no armor.

"Well met, Frederik. I am sorry for the intrusion but that song, the description is..."

Brother Ilisharan silenced Casavir with a stern look. There was no need for anyone, least of all a bard to know he had ties to the hero of legend. They were very far from the Sword Coast, and it needed to stay that way for Casavir's own safety. His rescue and recovery was a miracle, and Brother Ilisharan intended to keep his friend safe from harm of any kind.

Frederik waited for the knight to finish. He saw the look pass between the men, and his mind was dancing with glee. The more strangeness, the better for the entertainment! However he was disappointed when the knight simply shook his head.

"I am sorry, I spoke out of turn. I am sure I mistook what you sang. The song is lovely, please forgive my intrusion."

He bowed gracefully and left the room. Brother Ilisharan thanked Frederik for his time, and paid him a parting sum. He had made more in that short time with the Tyrrian then he had the last two days in the tiny villages he had visited. It was well worth the intrigue the two men presented to him. He was sure he could invent a lovely song about them, and went on his way.

Casavir's bright blue eyes were glittering.

"That song, Brother! It was about Kyrie! I heard the entire thing! Is it true?"

The cleric sighed wistfully. He knew this would happen. He knew that Casavir would take the story and run with it. The pious, honor driven, self-controlled paladin of the time before the war had died in that prison, replaced by a zealous love-stricken man who would not accept what had happened to the woman he loved. That odd glittering in his eyes signalled another bout with one of his self-styled crusades.

"No Casavir, it is not true. It is merely a bard-song, meant to turn a quick coin, nothing more."He busied himself with laying out the implements of blessing. Casavir stopped him.

"If that is so, then why was the bard in your office singing that song to you? Do not tell me it is because you love music, Brother. He did not need to be in private audience with you if that were truly the case!"

"I asked him to come because I...I did not know what I heard earlier. It was crowded and noisy and..."

He saw that the knight was not buying any of it. Not a word.

"Casavir, you have to understand. These type of stories are typical of bards. They pass them on from person to person for entertainment purposes. I just found it interesting that he said..."

"That she was returned to life by Tyr. Our Tyr. The good god of justice." Casavir finished for him. They both stood at the altar, looking up at the statue of their god, both believing in their hearts that for all the sacrifices she had made, returning Kyrie to life would have been right and just. However, Brother Ilisharan also felt that it was highly unlikely, but dared not voice his concern.

He looked at the man that had become his friend, and worry creased his brow. It had been one thing to heal Casavir's body, but his mind was another matter. The cleric had not known the knight before the war, in truth he had only seen a very fleeting piece of his life the day he saw Sir Casavir and his Lady Knight married, but what he did know of paladins, and paladins of Tyr no doubt, gave him a distinct impression that something had changed in Casavir.

There were times that the knight seemed content with his life in the small church, assisting the local villagers. Over the months he seemed to have a grasp and an acceptance that his beloved had gone to Tyr's home. Then for no reason at all, he would suddenly become incredibly focused on looking for her, as though she had not died but was simply lost. He would swear up and down that his heart told him that Kyrie was not dead, that those demons in Luskan had procured some sort of conspiracy. Always, with those glittering eyes. There was something unnatural about that glittering, something that winked in and out of existence and greatly disturbed Brother Ilisharan. Casavir would get an edge then, and his temperament was most certainly not like a paladin's should be, and not like it usually was. The knight would go through periods of rage at some imagined conspiracy, venting his frustration at inanimate objects. Many things had been broken during those times, and Brother Ilisharan was careful to avoid and diffuse potential outbursts. The crusades Casavir's mind launched him on, if not controlled, would break him eventually. Brother Ilisharan worried deeply for his friend.

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"By Tyr's mercy, Casavir, you don't even know if its true!" cried Brother Ilisharan, grabbing the paladin's arm. "You know how bards can be! Some haven't a notion about the truth behind their songs and stories! Please consider this!"

Casavir stared at his friend, his electric blue eyes glittering. He pulled his arm free and resumed tacking up his horse.

"The slightest chance that it is true must be explored, Ilisharan."

"It is a journey of a thousand miles! Let me send a scout to prove these rumors are unfounded. You are not many months back from near death, Casavir!"

"Then that is two thousand miles I must wait! I must be with her! She is my love, my life, Brother! Surely you of all people can understand how my light burns for her!"

Brother Ilisharan shook his head, sighing. "Casavir, you know and have accepted that Lady Kyrie died in the fall of the Vale. No matter how much we both wish that she were somehow spared or returned we must face that it is not so. Honor her memory but live your life, my friend."

Casavir suddenly turned, anger momentarily darkening his glittering eyes. His voice was intense, almost raised to a shout.

"How do we know it is not so! There is no life without her! She is everything to me! Everything! I will go back to the Sword Coast and see for myself if the stories are true. If they are..."

`The paladin's eyes softened and the glittering disappeared, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a wistful smile. "Then Tyr will have blessed me twice with her love. I feel it in my heart, Brother. My beloved lives. My Kyrie is waiting for me."

He laid a hand on his friend's shoulder, then turned and led his horse from the stable.

Brother Ilisharan looked up at the paladin astride the great black warhorse. "May Tyr lay his protection upon you, Sir Casavir de Chantraine."

Casavir nodded with respect. "And also to you, good Brother." He reined the steed towards the gate, and turned once more to the cleric. He waved and the horse reared up.

"To her side!" shouted Casavir, and the beast sprang forward.