(If this story is deemed too early for the current content, I will not use it as my prelude, but it has been written as a prelude to Wolf's entrance into the spotlight.)
Wolfdietrich sat at a table in a dark corner of the tavern, looking over the pieces of parchment in front of him with weary eyes. Long lines of text filled the pages, and he found himself jumping from line to line every so often, attempting to process as much information as he could before his mind began to wander. He occasionally stared into the candle in front of him, watching tiny veins of wax run slowly down its side and onto the finished wood. Its flickering flame cast a soft light that pulsed across the table like waves onto a beach.
"What ails you, my friend?" came a voice from above. Ilthilior Forey towered above Wolfdietrich, looking down on the Dark Knight with a complicated expression that was most likely a show of sympathy. Even after three, long years with the man from Aht Urghan, the Dark Knight found it difficult to read some of his expressions.
Letting out a labored sigh, Wolfdietrich looked up from the papers into ancient, amber eyes. "I am fine, Ilthilior. I've been reading reports from our scouts in Davoi. It does not bode well. The Orcs have spread across the countryside. Only pockets of resistance remain." The tired man took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment, his mind racing with dark thoughts and uncertainty.
"You do not appear to be fine, my friend. You have sat here for too long reading dire tidings. Why do you put yourself through this sort of torture? There are many tasks to be done here. Do not try and bear the burdens of a land across the sea, as well." Ilthilior placed one of his massive hands on the table, sliding the parchment to the side. Long, branch-like arms pulled a chair from the tavern table, and he floated down to sit next to the Dark Knight.
"I have abandoned my people," confessed Wolfdietrich, the weariness of a hard-working man compounded with years of guilt echoing in his voice.
"You did not abandon them, Wolfdietrich, son of Lionel. You listened to reason and left those lands to help protect those who listened and left with you. Do not be so quick to dishonor those you sheltered across the seas and forget the great services you have done for them in this land."
"I do not forget these people, but neither can I forget those who were left behind–"
"–or chose to stay behind," Forey interjected. "Friend, listen to me. You have done what was necessary to protect not only your people, but also your way of life. My people did what was necessary to protect the Empress' lands and look at the result. We mercenaries live in constant fear, struggling to retain our humanity while surviving in this harsh land. When I found you, you had a handful of starving children. Now look at you. Think of the things you have done to keep those children safe. You would do well to remember that.” With that, Ilthilior Forey turned his head away, not in frustration, but with practiced patience.
A look of shock and bashfulness swept over Wolfdietrich’s face. He cleared his throat and softly rubbed the back of his neck with his rough leather gauntlets, searching for words. When he came to none, he sighed deeply and turned his body to face his companion. "Forgive me, Ilthilior. I should not forget the great sacrifice your people made in taking us in. It seems that we all have lost so much."
Forey answered Wolfdietrich's sigh with one of his own. He reached out and placed his hand softly over the Dark Knight’s gloved fist, radiating a warmth that shot through the Elvaan, causing him to shiver slightly. “Our fruit-bearing trees can be burnt down, our fields may run dry, and our wills can be broken. But our trees can be re-planted, the rain will come with patience, and our wills can be re-forged with effort. The Empress provides.”
The two sat in a timeless silence, quietly sharing a moment of reflection on the parable. Wolfdietrich looked out the window of the tavern, watching the mercenaries and merchants toil in their business, hastily traversing the crowded streets of nighttime Aht Urghan. He thought for a moment at the life of a Royal Knight, the life he once had; the high level of patience, the strict doctrine of duty, the unquestionable sense of loyalty. A Knight never toiled with himself over the aspects of his job; he did it out of necessity, out of principle. Wolfdietrich watched as the young and old members of the Immortals worked through the crowd, keeping peace within the chaos, all with the same look of patriotism and pride in their work. After watching this, Wolfdietrich knew then what he would do, what he had to do.
“There is a trade route opening up between Mhaura and Aht Urghan Harbor. The first boats leave in the morning.”
“Are you telling me or are you asking me?” Forey questioned the Dark Knight with another indiscernible expression that was probably meant to show concern.
Wolfdietrich smiled. It was the first time in months that he had done so, and it filled him with an energy he nearly forgot he possessed. Standing up, he strapped on his armor and swung his mighty bastard sword over his shoulder. “Ready for another adventure, old friend?”
Ilthilior Forey laughed. It was an inhuman laugh, a feral laugh, but it was a laugh nevertheless, and it brightened the mood even more. “Do I have a choice in the matter?” He joined Wolfdietrich at his feet, stretching his gargantuan limbs with a sound not unlike the groaning of a large tree swaying in the wind. “Perhaps we will meet my kinsmen along the way. The winds of change and time have scattered many of us to the western lands. I will bring tidings.”
Wolfdietrich nodded. He was glad to have Forey with him. He was glad to once more feel a sense of purpose. He was glad to be going home.
last edited 688 weeks ago by Midas
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688 weeks ago