Sleepers' Sage | ONC 2023

IV. Noon

"One ending is not the end of everything. The Hearth's Rest Pub still sat quietly on the edge of town, and when the flags decorated the beamed wooden ceiling, all patrons celebrated Marion's birthday. Extra tankards passed around the room, and cheers sang in gratitude for the Barwick family. Even when the decorations were stored away, with not a single sign of celebration, the world moved on. Patrons kept coming to the bar, months passed, and her daughter grew up. Everything happened as it always had, and had it not been for the stranger throwing the inn's doors open at the end of autumn, it would have continued like this evermore.

It had been rainy for weeks, and the inn had been grateful for the weather as it pulled in many patrons, all seeking to hide from the storms. The warm light of the large fireplace and many candle scones cast a warm glow into the rowdy tavern, which was dense with conversation loud enough to drown out the clinking of glasses. Marion had been working harder than ever, her aproned skirt filled with towels and tips. This afternoon too, she danced from one table to the other, delivering wooden tankards to drunkards and dishes with steaming potatoes, aromatic herbs and perfectly baked eggs to hungry townsfolk. Through the rounded windows of the inn, one could barely see a clouded sky behind the curtain of rain and falling leaves. Out there, below the oak trees bowed by age, lay a rug of moss, mushrooms and acorns that signalled the autumn. The temperature outside had been dropping too, but inside not a single person seemed to notice.

That was, at least, until the doors were swung open with a crash, allowing the icy air to blow inside. The candles flickered anxiously as if disturbed by the sudden appearance of a stranger in the doorframe, and the room quieted in curiosity. The man was tall, with a strong build. His shoulders showed an impressive, athletic frame below his fancy, embroidered travelling cloak. By the sounds audible from outside, he had been on horseback not long ago, and his dark brown hair had been whipped into messy curls by the battering winds. His warm eyes scanned eagerly through the common-room, with not a single trace of shame for his booming arrival. When he laid them on Marion, a bright smile crossed his face, and before she knew it, the stranger caught her in his embrace.

Marion was caught incredibly off guard, nearly dropping the plate she was holding when the man took his strides towards her. As his arms enveloped her, the warm smell of weapon wax and strawberry pastries instilled Mara with nostalgia. The stranger's embrace felt like that of Delard. A wave of unbridled comfort washed over her, bringing tears to her eyes as she hugged the stranger back. It had been nearly fifteen years since she had last communicated with her childhood friend, and while she believed he would never return, this stranger's comfort matched the one Mara had sought for years.

When the man pulled back, she expected much. Joking apologies, embarrassment, perhaps even laughing, but instead, the man cupped her face in his hands tenderly, looking down at her. There was no chance Marion's eyes saw truthfully, she thought. After all, he had been gone for years, this stranger could not be him. Yet, as the man looked back at her, Marion was met with the softened eyes of her childhood friend and the gentle smile he used to carry. When he spoke her name, a sudden burst of certainty threatened to burst from her chest, and in near tears, she embraced the man again. Somewhere far away, she heard a few patrons cheer, but Mara was lost in a feeling of fulfilment she hadn't felt in years.

Delard had aged as much as she had, carrying newly found mastery and authority in his stance. He spoke with a grace she had never heard before and told of locations more fantastical than those he had told her about during childhood. But, in as many ways he had changed, so too had he stayed the same. His presence was cheerful, he still loved the jokes she made and remembered every memory Marion brought up. They spoke the entire evening, no silences ever falling between them as Delard animatedly told of his absence. He walked around the room enthusiastically as they chatted. His father was in good health. They had seen the entire Auran Reach. Dale had completed his training as Farlow's heir. He had seen castles and queens with beautiful riches. He had missed her. She, in turn, recounted her life in Forn. Her daughter. Her family. Her inn. And he listened. For the whole, rainy evening, he listened to her, praising her for her resilience, sincerely consoling Mara over her losses, and showing prideful excitement over each of her achievements. Marion felt so happy, a warm, restful sentiment settling on her shoulders. For the first time in a long while, she was smiling. This time not to keep others happy but just for herself.