Mishka adjusted the boy's collar and smiled sadly at him. "Look at my boy, all grown up," she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes once more. "I remember when you barely old enough to walk."

"And it's because of you that I learned to walk, Mishka." Aerysdren grinned. He pushed a strand of his hair behind his pointed ear and adjusted his pack. "Thank you. For everything."

"Just remember what I told you." She jabbed a finger at him. "No-"

Aerysdren rolled his eyes. He had heard this at least fifty times that morning. "I get it, Mishka. Stay away from humans, if anybody offers me powder-don't take it, hide the ears, and don't talk to random people. You've practically beaten that into my head now."

"Good." Mishka nodded and sighed. "Try and remember your Common, and pick up what you can. And for Lyna's sake, stay the hell away from Juliec. You better write to me too! Do not make me hunt you down. You know I will."

Aerysdren chuckled and took the older elf's calloused hands in his own. "I will, mama, I promise. I go with Lyna's blessing," he assured her. "And I won't be gone forever, you know. I'll come back."

"A true Sylvanaar will miss his homeland, little Aerys. We were not made to be gone long," Mishka quietly replied. "Just as the birds must always return when the Spring Mother once again shines her warmth down upon us."

Aerysdren looked around at the tall aspen trees that towered above him, their golden leaves rustling in the autumn wind. A woodpecker could be heard pecking on a tree somewhere far off, and the dancing grass that blanketed the forest floor was adorned with beautiful, vibrant bushes and flowers. He turned his gaze behind him, to the border of the forest. To the border of Sheeth Alinar. Beneath his feet was a dirt path; rarely trodden upon and partially overgrown. It led to Dalyntarth, and eventually opened up to the Weary Road.

He turned back to Mishka with a half shrug. "This will always be my home. I love it...nothing else can compare to its beauty. But sometimes the bird finds another nest."

"Aerys." Mishka couldn't help but smile and rub her forehead. She embraced the young man in a warm, loving hug, her hand on the back of his fluffy, black haired head. "You'll always be my little Aerys. Always, no matter what. I know you'll make me proud. Just come back to me, you hear? I did not raise you for fifty five years for you to just up and leave me."

"Come on, Mishka, do not make me all weepy." Aerysdren rested his head on her shoulder. "I will write to you whenever I can. I promise to come back soon. Besides, Ysrendyr gets lonely when I'm away." He grinned.

"I'm holding you to that promise." Mishka pulled away, tears streaming down her tanned and weathered face. She quickly wiped them away, revealing glistening brown eyes that glowed with pride in the morning sun. "Well, go on now, kid. I'll be waiting for you when you're back."

Aerysdren suddenly remembered something very important. "What about my parents?" he asked. "What will you tell them?"

Mishka crossed her arms and shook her head. "Not a damn thing, Aerys. If they ask me, I will tell them. But only if they ask me."

"Thank you." Aerysdren bowed his head in appreciation. "I doubt that they will even notice that I am gone for about a week or so." He smiled smally and clasped Mishka in another brief hug. "Well, goodbye Mishka! I'll write to you as soon I can!"

"Farewell, little Aerys." Mishka waved at him. "I love you! Never forget that...."

With that, Aerysdren turned around and walked down the path, the tranquil surroundings of the forest slowly leaving him.

Never to return.

~-~-~-~

Tears ran freely down Isendir's face as he dug into the soft ground with the shovel. The sun had retreated beyond the horizon, and the welcoming night had set in; the silver stars twinkled up above him, the moon a glowing spotlight in the dark sky. Even the frogs in the pond hushed their inceasent croaking, as if they too knew and understood what had been lost this night. Only the crickets and Isendir's shovel digging into the ground could be heard.

"Don't blame the mage, lad," Ragnus said in a gentle voice from where he sat on the grassy ground. "There was nothing he could have done." He leaned his head back against a tree. The old man was tired, so, so tired.

"I blame myself." Isendir tossed the dirt on the pile beside him. "I should have never let him come with us."

"But if you didn't, the world would have been doomed."

"Damn the world!" Isendir snapped. He furiously wiped the sweat from his brow and dug faster. "He didn't deserve that. Why didn't they take me? Or Lorthrendel? He actually deserves this!"

"Isendir." Ragnus let out a soft sigh and shook his head. "Nobody is at blame here. Just calm down, lad. Just calm down."

Isendir took a deep breath and let out through his nose. He groaned and tossed the shovel aside. "I wonder what's going on back home right now," he muttered.

"You probably do not want to know," the dwarf grumbled. He flicked a cricket that hopped onto his arm. "Poor girl...."

Isendir looked up when he heard somebody walking towards them. It was Varenyl; the Sylvari had removed his cloak and was dressed in a bloody, short sleeve tunic and greaves. He had pulled his hair back in a tie to keep it out of his eyes. In his arms was a body, shrouded in a white curtain; Aerysdren.

"Is everything ready?" asked the Sylvari, his blue eyes cold and emotionless. He looked at the two men.

"Aye." Ragnus grimly nodded. "Everything is ready."

"Lorthrendel?" Isendir glanced back at the house. A candle illumined the upstairs room with a dim, golden light.

Varenyl shook his head. "He's...alive, but unresponsive."

Isendir only nodded in acknowledgement. To be honest, he didn't really care if Lorthrendel lived or not. In his mind, Aerysdren was dead because of him.

Without another word, Varenyl gently crouched down and laid Aerysdren's limp body into the grave, returning him to the earth one last time. 

"May the Spring Mother guide you to her breast, Aerysdren Ravenshard." Varenyl lowered his head in respect, the gentle breeze blowing his hair back and rustling the trees. "Your name will forever be remembered by those among the living." He stood back up and returned his gaze back to Isendir and Ragnus. "Do what you must. I must return to Lorthrendel now. When you are finished, come to me so that I can treat your wounds as well." He gave them each a sharp nod and walked briskly back to the house.

Isendir silently picked the shovel back up and began to refill the small grave, his dreadlocks hiding his face in the dark. When he was finished, he stuck the shovel in the ground and covered his face with his hands.

"We can't even give him a proper headstone," he murmured.

"He does not need one, lad. He has moved on; this is only the shell," Ragnus softly returned. He slowly got up with a groan, his tired and fatigued bones creaking from the sudden movement.

Isendir looked at the dwarf with dark eyes. His face contorted and he jerked his gaze up the sky, his hands clenching into a fist. "Is this what you want?" he cried. "You ask for the life of an innocent child and leave us? You've done nothing for us but take! What did he do to be your sacrifice? He did not even know!"

Ragnus hurriedly took Isendir's hand. "Shush, you do not know what creatures live in these woods-"

Isendir snatched his hand away. "Does it look like I give a damn, Ragnus? Everybody on this miserable planet can go to hell for all I care. I'm done here." He turned around and starting marching deeper into the woods.

Ragnus's eyes widened. "Isendir! Where do you think you're going? You'll die if you go out there on your own!" He started off after him, but Isendir picked up his pace and the dwarf's vision was struggling to keep sight of him. "Isendir! Isendir!" he called.

There was no answer.

~-~-~-~

Varenyl leaned against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze glued to Lorthrendel. The mage was laying on his back, naked from the waist up. The Sylvari had stitched his wounds up pretty well and treated them, but something was off. Lorthrendel should have died from his injuries about five minutes after he received them. Something had partially healed him so that he could survive long enough for Varenyl to treat him.

Just as he was almost certain that that same "something" helped Aerysdren stay alive long enough so that he could say what he needed to.

He looked down and opened up his hand. The Black Amulet lay in his palm, swirling and pulsing with life. His brows knitted together. Looking at it was so hypnotizing...but at the same time it gave him a monstrous headache. He quickly put it away when he heard Ragnus thumping up the stairs.

"Where is the knight?" asked the Sylvari when he saw that Ragnus was alone.

The old, grizzled dwarf slumped down in a chair. He ever so slightly shook his head, his exhausted gaze resting on the floor. "He left."

Varenyl frowned. "What do you mean, 'he left'?"

"He ran off into the woods. I could not chase after him."

"Oh gods." Varenyl let out a long sigh. "That bloody idiot! He's going to go out there and get himself killed." He reached up and massaged his temples. "I cannot be bothered with him right now." He looked back over at Lorthrendel, then back to Ragnus. "I still need to treat your injuries, and my own."

"Do not worry yourself over me, lad." Ragnus cast him a small, weary smile. "I'm just tired. Both mentally, 'n physically. It's just a few scrapes 'n scratches."

"I still want to do a check up," Varenyl returned. "But I suppose it can wait a while. I have to make sure Lorthrendel keeps breathing. And that he wakes up."

***🐉***

if you have any suggestions on how to make this more emotional, please tell me ❤ i added a sentence to the end of the last chapter too btw

sorry it took me so long again😅

please tell me any criticism you have as always ♥

tysm for reading, and until next time~