The Fires of Cerran

Epilogue

The remainder of the day drifted by without celebration. They clambered down the road that led to the ruins of Cerran, stopping often with exhaustion, until at last they came upon the wrecked streets of the old town. They did not encounter any spectres at the side of the road, and neither did they hear the sounds of the town crumbling around them. All seemed quiet, peaceful.

They found their rides, saddled up and rode back towards the village where they entertained before. Again, it was a quiet ride. The spitting rains slowed, and eventually halted to reveal a spring salmon sky, dotted higher with stars. The breeze was warm and soft, like a well needed blanket, and the smells of the forest wafted through the trees and brought with them the songs of the birds and the insects of the place.

Ramon rode at the back of the group now, his eyes seeming to fall greyer as the day passed by. His braided hair had fallen, now wild and tangled in a mess of mud, ash, and blood. His riding cloak, which he used to wipe his bloodied armour, lay at the side of the road some miles behind them. Indeed, he was so quiet than none amongst the company realised that he diverged from them some miles before they came to the edge of the Colmare as evening set in. They dismounted and tied their mares, Astriel the first to turn back towards the road in hope of seeing the archer returning to them.

'Let him be, he needs time.' Lenren said, everything about him seeming tired and weary. He patted his mare and glanced towards the road, thinking to himself: I hope he is alright.

Astriel turned back but said nothing, and as they entered the quiet tavern they were met with the same jovial landlord as before. He was stunned at their reappearance and claimed he would lose two silvers after betting they would perish. He gave a hearty laugh and then served them with three tankards of ale and a large tray of hot meat, breads, and cheeses.

They sat at the same table, each resting themselves against the soft leather of the chairs and smiling to themselves as they began to realise what they achieved.

'You did well.' Said Lenren, lifting his tankard and looking over at Melran. She half-smiled and nodded.

'I mean it.' He said, taking a long gulp of ale and sighing as he put his drink down again.

'Thank you, Ser, though I did little, if anything, in truth.' She returned.

'Little or nothing? Ha! My girl, you saved us from that dragon. Without you I would never have made that shot.' Lenren returned to her.

'But Ser Ramon –'

'My girl, Ser Ramon has suffered greatly over his years of service within both the Kingsmen and the archers, he will return to Ceraborn when he is ready.' Lenren said with a smile.

Astriel squeezed Melran's hand and nodded to her.

That evening they took a room at the inn house, and without having to pay. The landlord was glad to have them and said that the famous 'dragon slayers of Ceraborn' would make his tavern twice as popular now. In the darkness of the night, when the earth is at its quietest and the moon is in his highest point, Melran sat unable to sleep. She felt the bond surround her, clutching her with unseen hands and pressing down upon her. She let it in, it was futile to resist.

You have done well young one, the beast is dead, and the stronghold destroyed. The voice said, in a thin hushed voice. Now begins the second part of our plan, he is pleased with your work.

How can he know? Melran answered, fearing what she already knew.

He sees all, watches over his servants. You have pleased Him most of all. Replied the voice.

Good, now can I please go. Pleaded Melran, only for the voice to begin a dark laugh.

My dear, we are only just beginning. But your time shall come, your freedom is guaranteed once the tasks are completed. The voice returned.

And what task is next? Asked Melran, clutching for air as the bond grew tighter around her.

With the stronghold wiped out, the next target is clear to Him. Destroy the naval fleets and passages of the Kingdom. Cut Brodon, the Pretender King, off from his allies and watch his power burn away. The whispering messenger said.

You mean Korgen? Melran asked.

Yes, my dear, the waters of Korgen are a place of great strength to Brodon and his allies, but those waters harbour dark things now. And it is only a matter of time before they come to the surface to feast.

The bond broke before Melran could respond, and cold sweat ran along her back and face as she shook uncontrollably. Tears formed in her eyes and she turned to face the sleeping company. It was all becoming too much now, all too real. People had died, by her hand and by His, and now she knew that more would soon follow.