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Water drips from his cloak down onto the floor and a smile slowly grows on his chiseled handsome face as I stand there looking at him as if a ghost had just walked into my home.


“Zayne!”  I say again as I step forward and pull him into a big hard hug.  He hugs me back without hesitation.  “What are you doing here you old scoundrel?”


Slapping my shoulders and stepping back he says.  “To see you of course.”


We laugh and hug again.  Back at the door Tali is taking the riding cloaks from Zayne’s two companions.  One is a petite Kitsune woman, her apricot hued skin and hazel cat-like slitted eyes displaying her true heritage.  I could see by the talisman and foci worn about her person that she was a mage of some sort.  The other is a younger human man with the same dark tone of skin as Zayne and an unmistakable family resemblance around the eyes.  I had met neither of them in the past but, based on previous conversations, the man I recognized as my friend’s nephew Wymund, an up and coming swordsman of some talent.


As Zayne and I step apart I greet the others as he introduces them.  The woman’s name was Kaede, an adventuring wizard who had only hired onto this little band recently.  She was polite and respectful though guarded.  Wymund was as brash as his uncle had described.  As we shook hands I saw that look that I got from so many young warriors as he measured me up and wondered if the tales were true.  I hoped he wouldn’t challenge me to a duel.  Friendly or not I was not in the mood to put another upstart in their place.


“I am sure the pair of you have a lot to catch up on.”  My wife says as she motions for the others to follow her.  “Come, have some refreshment and take a rest while you can.”


I shoot Lana a look to thank her not only for this surprise but also in taking care of our our other guests so I could visit with my friend.  She smiles slightly and nods my direction before she and Tali lead the others away.  


I look my friend up and down.  This skin of his face was more craggy, the flesh of his cheeks hung looser, the stubble on his chin showing gray and white where there had only been black before, but he looked good.  Slim, healthy, and his vibrant blue eyes still full of life and mischief.  Gods was it good to see him again.  Putting my arm around his shoulders I lead him to my study and pour him a drink.


We sit side by side on the small couch near my desk.  With the eyes of the others off of us we steal a small kiss from each other before relaxing.


“It’s been what, two years?”  I say.


“Yeah, since you retired.”  He says.  “Sorry I haven’t found time to get around here.  I’ve just been so busy.”


“I hear you.”  I pat his leg to assure him.  “Still going hard huh?  Out there adventuring with the kids?  I thought you’d be fat and happy by now, enjoying your ill gotten gains.”


“Yeah.”  He says.  “Tried the quiet life for a few months.  Didn’t suit me.  I need to keep moving.  I’m not as quick as I used to be but I hold my own.”  


“Not my place to judge, but I can’t believe you brought your nephew into the life.”


“Ha!  You act like I had a choice.  You know young adventurers.  Big dreams and nothing is going to stop them.  He reminds me of someone else I knew 20 years ago.”  We smile warmly to each other.  “Besides, the life didn’t treat us so bad.  Had some fun.  Made some good coin.”  He looks around.  “Big risks, big rewards.  I don’t know any other woodcutter’s sons that could retire like this at your age.  Retirement’s treating you okay?”


And so it goes.  The first hour we spend catching up, exchanging pleasantries, and simply basking in each other’s presence.  As we spoke however I could sense a distance from him that wasn’t there before.  Something was off.  And I could also see he had something playing on his mind that he was trying to find a way to bring up casually.


“So?”  I eventually say.


“So what?”


“So are you going to tell me why you’re really here.”


He smiles and finishes his drink then places the tumbler down on the side table.  “Still can’t fool you.”


“Come on Zayne.  Just tell me.”


“I hear you’re going to be offered a lordship.”  He says.  “Sounds like a fine opportunity.”


“You heard?”  My heart drops as I realize Lana’s deception had not been so altruistic after all.


Sensing the shift in my demeanor her hurriedly continues.  “Gets you back in the game without actually having to adventure.  I can tell you Cas, those of us still fighting the fight could use a friendly voice in high places.  Someone who has been out there and understands.”


“Zayne…I’m retired.”  I say as a strained fatigue creeps into my voice.


“And long may it last, if that’s what you really want.  You can hire people…”


“If I can get others to do it for me then they don’t need me at all.”  I cut him off.  “I’m no politician.”


“But Lanaestra is, or could be.”


“Then they should offer it to her.”


“Elves can’t be lords here.”  He states the obvious.  


“Then you.  Why not?”  I say.  “You seem keen on it.”


He chuckles.  “With my past?  With my reputation?  With my shady connnections?  I don’t think so.  Besides, they didn’t offer it to me, they are offering it to you.  You were the brave and fearless front man of our little band.  I was a sidekick at best.  Cas, your name on the Lord’s Council would bring with it support.  You’re a living legend Cas.  The people want to see you again.  Forget the council, think of the people.  Think of the good you could do for them.”


“I’d be used.  Trotted out when they need the support of the masses.  I’d just be a puppet.”  I shake my head.  “I can’t play their games.  I don’t know the rules.  And I don’t want to.  I just want…quiet.”  I turn to face him more directly.  “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you of all people.  Out here doing the politician’s dirty work.  You!?”


“Ha!”  He laughs.  “Getting wise in my old age I guess.  It’s a good offer Cas.  You should take it.”


Leaning back I let out an exasperated sigh.  “Stop.  Please, just stop.  I’m retired.”


“Cas, you’re wasted out here.”  He says.  “I’m worried about you.”


“I like it out here.”  I turn to look at him straight in the eye.  “How can you keep going Zayne?  After what we saw?  After all we did?  How do find the inspiration to keep going?  


He had been waiting for this question.  Taking my hands in his he answers me.  “Psiomancy.  I did it.  I went and saw a mind mage Cas.  He lifted all the pain away.  He gave me my life back.”


“Oh Zayne.”  I say sadly.  “No.”


“Don’t oh Zayne me Cas.  Don’t pretend you’re stronger just because you choose to carry that shit around with you.  Out here, hiding from the world with your precious memories.  Because you’re not!”


“I never said I was.”


“What use are those memories?  Huh?”  He was suddenly animated.  “Just an anchor pulling you down to the bottom of despair.  Let go of them.  Find the old you.  A fresh start.  Live again!  If not to become a lord then to get out there on the front lines again.  Something, anything!  Take your life back!”


What had happened to Zayne?  Speaking on behalf of lords and talking like a starry eyed convert to a new psiomantic religion.  The years had changed him.  I then wonder if the wizard he’d brought with him was one of these mind mages.  And I wonder if Lana had arranged that as well.


“I’ve thought about it…but no.  I appreciate your concern though.”


“Those dark thoughts hurt those around you as much as they do you.  Think of your friends, family, think of your wife.  You don’t need to carry them anymore.  Lay them down and move on.”  His voice lowers into a calm serious tone.  “The mages are discreet.  They are precise.  They take the pain away and leave the good times behind.  There is no shame in it.”


“I know.”  I say tersely.  “It’s not for me.”


“Cas, you don’t need live like this.  They can heal you like they did me.”


“Zayne, I’m sorry Lana brought you out here for this.  My mind is settled though.  No lordship and no psiomancy.”  I pause and squeeze his hand.  “At least, not yet.  I need to work some things out on my own.”


“You are a stubborn man.”


“And this is new?”


“No.”  He chuckles.  “Hey, don’t be angry at Lanaestra.  She has your best interests in mind.”


“I know.”  I say.  “It is good to see you again, even if it was a ruse.  I should of known you were up to something you old scoundrel.”


“Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”  He waves his hand.  “Let’s never mind all that then.  Tell me, what have you been up to out here?”  He looks to the shelf of books.  “Writing a memoir perhaps?”


I laugh.  “Me?  Not likely.”  


I pause and look at him.  He was my best friend.  If there was anybody I could share my troubles with it was him.  If there was anybody I could talk to about the dreams and pain and even this situation with the giant it was him.  And yet…it didn’t feel right.  Not after what was just said.  Instead I direct the conversation back to the good times, wanting to relive some of those wonderful memories with the only other person who was there when they happened.  We laugh, oh how we laugh, as we recount the highlights of our countless adventures.  We tell old jokes, recount old shenanigans, and recall the wild characters we’d met along our travels.  The mood is light again.  It was all going so well.


“And remember…”  I gasp between laughs.  “…remember that old fella who fell in love with Lym?  He said he’d turn his barn into a temple and swore his ever living soul to her goddess if only she’d go out with him.  Ha!”


Zayne laughs with me, but I catch a hint of falseness in his merriment.  Someone who didn’t know him so well wouldn’t have caught it, but I did.  “Yeah!  Ah, what a crazy old coot.”  He bluffs.  The flatness of his eyes and the distance in his smile told me that he did not remember.  Suddenly he didn’t seem to be so happy to be reminiscing with me.  “Those were the days.  We had some times together.”


I look into his eyes, a long hard look.  “I’ve been thinking about them.  Dreaming about them too.”


“Arjan and Lym?”


“Yeah.”


With a kindly smile he pats my leg again.  “They were good friends and brave heroes.”


Brave heroes?  That trite expression was a phrase the storybooks said about us, not something we ever called ourselves.


“The best friends, the very best.”  I agree.  “But heroes?  I don’t know anymore Zayne.  As I look back on things…it’s not so clear anymore.  It was all so clear back then.”


“Cas, we did good.  We saved the world…how many times?  We saved how many lives?  And we had a great time doing it, made a small fortune too.”


“But at what cost?”  I say darkly.  “And we did other things too Zayne.  So many other things.  Things I’m not proud of.”  


“It’s a hard world out there.  That’s why they need people like us.”


I sigh and put my head in my hands.  “Remember that goblin warren in the hills near Mizu?”


“Mizu?  Going all the way back, aren’t ya?”  He sidesteps the question.


“Women, children…we killed them all Zayne.”  I continue as I look back over to him.  “Every one of them, even as they begged for mercy.  We didn’t leave a single survivor.  Were we heroes then?”


“Goblin children grow into goblin raiders.”  He says in an neutral voice that gave away that he was speaking purely on a surface level.  “And goblin women make goblin children.”


“And the old?  The infirm?  Babes in their mother’s arms?”


“Cas, they were fucking goblins.  Who cares!?  We did a job and we got paid.”


“Arjan cared!”


“And look what happened to him!”  He shoots right back, it was an arrow through my heart.  More gently he says.  “They were just goblins Cas.  Don’t worry about it.  They would have done the same to us.”


I let out a huff.  “I’ll never forget what you told me that day.”


He pauses a moment before asking.  “Oh?  And what did I tell you?”


Again I stop to look him deep in the eyes.  There it was again, that flatness, that hazy distance.  “You actually don’t remember, do you?”


His eyes narrow in anger.  “Just tell me!  Fuck Cas, quit being so dramatic.”


In a terrible moment of revelation I realize that, in a very real way, this wasn’t the same man that had been with me all those years ago.  He didn’t remember the old man who proposed to Lymandri.  He couldn’t remember the slaughter of helpless goblins that had caused so much tension in our group yet in the end helped forge us closer together.  How much more had they wiped from his memory?  How many of those dark moments when all seemed lost had been swept away?  The anger, the tears, the sorrow.  How much was left?  He surely couldn’t remember the horror of Lym’s last moments.  That scream and that helpless look in her eyes as she was taken from us.  How much of the man I loved as a brother and a lover was still there?


They had taken him away from me.  The Psiomancers had saved Zayne from his conscience but taken my best friend as surely as Simbraug took Lymandri and the assassin took Arjan.  The latest casualty of our party.  Alive, but not himself.  He had moved on.  And why shouldn’t he?  Why live in the past when you can’t go back again?  He had gotten his fresh start.


I was alone.  Truly alone.  The last of our party.  The last to remember all of our deepest lows as well as our giddy highs.  The last survivor.  Why?  Why me?


With rising annoyance he says.  “Well?  What did I say?  Sounds like it was profound.”


At a whisper I lie to him.  “You said…it was for the greater good.”


He smiles again.  A polite smile, not a happy one.  “And it was.”


Just like that the energy had shifted dramatically between us.  The comfortable familiarity of before now a tense awkwardness.  I had been through life and death and worlds beyond this one with this man…and now we looked at each other like strangers.  This probing of unpleasant memories that he could not recall had shaken him as much as it had me and we both recognized things couldn’t be the same between us.  All at once he gets to his feet and slaps the sides of his legs.  “We really should be going.  We still have miles to travel today.”


I rise and face him.  As we shake hands I wonder if this would be last time I ever saw him.

Chapter 19 

Comments

Michael Dierks

Again with the wow. This is good. The different levels, weaving the psiomancy into a cultish wave, very easy to imagine. The imagery of all his party being gone now, metaphorically, finishing some of his reasons for being.