A Choral Ending

It has been two years since Kriv and I returned to Emrolus as we remember it. Though over, the war had been devastating, but hope still reigned. We returned to the Council, conveying to them our tale of what we remembered, of what memories did not fade, and we returned to them those shards of the Lodestone we collected. They viewed our tale with scrutiny, picked apart every detail, examined us via arcane methods; in the end they deducted that we spoke the truth, at least from our point of view. They sent us along, with what reward we had earned. Yet it left Kriv and I wanting.

Our companions were gone–Sariel, Loriana, Leocanto, Kohl, Charname, Mak–they had all perished in our task. Only Alex remained, but he was with wife and child, and we had no right to disrupt the happy ending he earned. So Kriv and I, doing what good devout followers of our Lady Erathis would do, set out to assist in the reconstruction following the war. It was in this self given quest that we found ourselves here–where it all began–Sarn’s Pass. Of all the things said by Ragnos, such was true that he had laid waste to the town, but he underestimated a people’s will and strength. Though their homes were lost, they had started to rebuild.

It has been a year and a half since then, and the town nears completion. Her walls are strong, as are her people. The town had lost so much, it needed faith. Though followers of Erathis, we are bound by duty to unite people in religion not to a single deity, but under a pantheon of light–of good and morals. We united the town in faith, and together the town prospered. Homes were rebuilt, the walls reformed, the temple rechristened. The town grew larger than before, nearly a city in her own right. Sarn’s Pass again stood within the woods, a bright beacon within the dark green, but something else was needed.

The monument that followed was a reminder to all. The ivory obelisk stands within the center of the town’s graveyard, the second tallest object within the confines of her great wall. Its surface bears the name of every life lost within the destruction of the town. I visit it daily. Surrounding the monument stand six large mounds of rock, each bearing upon them an item, a memory, a tiny monument to a life lost–friends, family–individuals who through their actions helped save the world from destruction. Heroes lost, nameless to the saga of our lands.

Each mound features a weapon, a tool, representing one used by a warrior–a fallen comrade. The morningstar, for Kohl–strong, yet caring. The crystal, for Charname–charismatic and eccentric. The longsword, for Sariel–powerful as she was beautiful. The massive fullblade of Mak, whose pure power and sacrifice in the end was what made the opening for all to be saved. The rapier, for Leocanto. His entrance was one that bore suspect (his actions did little to remove this), but for all the memories that faded, the ones that remain show true. He was a true friend, and one I am proud to have known.

And then there was the sixth mound. Borne upon this mound was but a single dagger–simple, and unadorned; this mound meant the most to me. It was this mound that cost me the most. I do not fool myself into thinking I loved her. Nor do I fool myself into thinking we had a future as anything but friends. The truth still remains that short of Kriv, Loriana meant the most to me of all my companions. It was her death, her betrayal, that pained me the most. Yet despite her betrayal, she still holds a place of importance to me. It is for her–to atone for her sins–that I continue on.

It is said that the future is always born of pain. The history of war is the history of pain. If we are wise what is born of that pain matures into the promise of a better world. We learn that we can no longer afford the mistakes of the past. Kriv, me, the people of Sarn’s Pass, the people of Emrolus, we have all learned from the pain we have endured in these past years. But somewhere out there, I know others await in the wings, other Elials, other R’s, other Ragnoses wishing harm upon the world for bitter, trivial, selfish reasons.

With the coming of the completion of the town, I strive to continue my wanderings upon this world. Every day I teach Kriv more lessons of the faith. Soon he shall be a full fledged Paladin of Erathis, if in name only. Together we will keep watch, waiting. Should another evil bear its head upon this world we will be prepared. Though we may forget–by enchantment or design–the events of the past years, we will never forget the hardship, the struggle, the loss, the pain. Upon Lady Erathis’ name I swear to be ever vigilant and mindful. To take her light to the dark, to aid those in need, and to protect the laws and innocents of the world.