Author: Maxwell Heimdal

He is breaking his biggest smile right now, as he kisses Lucille’s hand gently before putting a promise ring his Cousin Fabron helped forge. Deep inside he knew that Lucille would be happy at the proposal but he still thought that he was beneath her. Her family sure thought so, even if Lucille constantly reminded Pascal that the only opinion that mattered was hers.

Pascal remembered how his parents would joke about him marrying her when they were children. He would get so angry back then because girls were gross and he didn’t want to marry one later in life. By the time he was a teenager he blushed everytime she would come around, her brilliant blonde hair seemed to almost blow in the wind to him. There was no reason why someone so beautiful inside and out would choose someone that came from a line of gravediggers and dealt with death for a living. Someone who had whispers follow him as he walked by.

And yet she chose him.

It still felt surreal that he was going to marry her, that she would say yes and that she would be the mother of his children. It felt like a fairy tale, the ones his father said never came true.

“Pascal…” she said softly, giving him the softest smile “come back to me.”

He would lose himself in thoughts sometimes, not that he meant to do it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to…it’s just…” he tried to explain, “it feels -”

“Like a dream?” Lucille let out a soft laugh before kissing his cheek “We are dreamers, the both of us. But we can make our dreams a reality, together.”

He kissed her cheek gently, letting the emotions take over him “I promise to protect you and our children, to hold you above everyone but God. To love you everyday and be thankful everyday you’re by my side.”

She let out a soft laugh, one that sounded like music to his ears. “Shouldn’t you wait until the actual wedding ceremony for your vows?”

“I’m not worried about it,” he embraced her and held her as close to him as he could “I’ll tell you every day how much I love you if I have to”

“Everyday? For the rest of our lives? That’s quite a challenge, let’s see if you can do it.”

There was amusement in her voice and her twinkle in her eyes as she playfully challenged him to but he did. And he continued to do it even after life and after that beautiful twinkle had left her eyes. Even after burying her. It wasn’t rare to see Pascal Rocheaux kneeling on his dead wife’s grave, whispering with all the emotion he could muster how much he loved her.

He just hoped that one day the words would reach her even in death

“After defeating those undead you could be branded!” says Kotzell cheerfully, I’m not sure how branding works since I’ve never really looked into it so I’m not sure if he’s joking or being serious but my cheeks burn all the same. “Heimir the De-deadnator!”

“ah…I-I don’t think I can ever be branded…” I whisper it, almost a reminder to myself to not even think of dreaming of that.

“You can’t? Why not?” He looks truly confused

“The runes…”

“Oh” he understands immediately.

—–

I’m 16 years old when it happens, all my friends had talked about how important their rune casting had been and had bragged about what it had said for them after. The night before I had stayed up with them thinking of the most heroic things the runes could have predicted for me, all of the things we had guessed were only things teenage boys would have thought of as heroic.

The day is cloudy and miserable, I try not to read too much into it as I step in the elder’s room. Instantly everything is dark except for a few candles.

“Sit.” She instructs me and I kneel down in front of her, all of the sudden I’m not excited just very nervous.

A cold shiver runs through me as she casts the runes.

She doesn’t speak for the longest time, just stares at the runes turning them over in her hands. I can’t read her face and I refuse to look at the runes myself. Something in me tells me not to look.

She takes a deep breath and finally speaks. “From the beginning you were sure of who you were and where you were going. You once had the energy to cut away the old and un-needed. And it was that energy that led you to make the decisions you have made to this point. You are at a period in your life where you are opening up to something new. But remember, movement involves danger, while timely movement leads out of it. Your process will involve disruptions that will turn out differently that you had intended. Hoped-for outcomes will elude you and you will find yourself at a standstill. You will be harvesting the seeds you’ve sown, keep in mind which are thorns and which are beneficial. You may find life easier to find partnership and allies, but true friendship will elude you and you may lose what you hold dear to those undeserving. Your future is grim. You won’t see the growth that you once wished for, and paths that should have been open to you may be closed, disrupted by your past and what may come to haunt you.”

I am trying not to let tears roll down my face, I can feel her stare as I nod get up and leave.

Outside my mentor Ingvarr is waiting for me, my friends are there as well. Ingvarr’s face falls immediately as he sees my tears, I see him moving towards me to ask but I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. And so I run, as far away as I can from everyone until I don’t hear them calling my name again.

Of course the runes would say that about me, it was ridiculous to dream of other things.

I stay in the fields far away from the village, I know Ingvarr must be worried about me and searching for me but I need time to myself for now. This is the time where I grieve the image of myself that I had dreamt of.

It’s night time by the time I get back, Ingvarr is by my side quickly telling me how the runes don’t matter and that I make my own destiny. I nod to him and give him a soft smile, too tired to argue and too tired to think otherwise. The truth is that now the seed of fear has been planted in my mind, one that has to grow overtime waiting to bloom once the runes come true.

“After defeating those undead you could be branded!” says Kotzell cheerfully, I’m not sure how branding works since I’ve never really looked into it so I’m not sure if he’s joking or being serious but my cheeks burn all the same. “Heimir the De-deadnator!”

“ah…I-I don’t think I can ever be branded…” I whisper it, almost a reminder to myself to not even think of dreaming of that.

“You can’t? Why not?” He looks truly confused

“The runes…”

“Oh” he understands immediately.

—–

I’m 16 years old when it happens, all my friends had talked about how important their rune casting had been and had bragged about what it had said for them after. The night before I had stayed up with them thinking of the most heroic things the runes could have predicted for me, all of the things we had guessed were only things teenage boys would have thought of as heroic.

The day is cloudy and miserable, I try not to read too much into it as I step in the elder’s room. Instantly everything is dark except for a few candles.

“Sit.” She instructs me and I kneel down in front of her, all of the sudden I’m not excited just very nervous.

A cold shiver runs through me as she casts the runes.

She doesn’t speak for the longest time, just stares at the runes turning them over in her hands. I can’t read her face and I refuse to look at the runes myself. Something in me tells me not to look.

She takes a deep breath and finally speaks. “From the beginning you were sure of who you were and where you were going. You once had the energy to cut away the old and un-needed. And it was that energy that led you to make the decisions you have made to this point. You are at a period in your life where you are opening up to something new. But remember, movement involves danger, while timely movement leads out of it. Your process will involve disruptions that will turn out differently that you had intended. Hoped-for outcomes will elude you and you will find yourself at a standstill. You will be harvesting the seeds you’ve sown, keep in mind which are thorns and which are beneficial. You may find life easier to find partnership and allies, but true friendship will elude you and you may lose what you hold dear to those undeserving. Your future is grim. You won’t see the growth that you once wished for, and paths that should have been open to you may be closed, disrupted by your past and what may come to haunt you.”

I am trying not to let tears roll down my face, I can feel her stare as I nod get up and leave.

Outside my mentor Ingvarr is waiting for me, my friends are there as well. Ingvarr’s face falls immediately as he sees my tears, I see him moving towards me to ask but I don’t want to talk to anyone right now. And so I run, as far away as I can from everyone until I don’t hear them calling my name again.

Of course the runes would say that about me, it was ridiculous to dream of other things.

I stay in the fields far away from the village, I know Ingvarr must be worried about me and searching for me but I need time to myself for now. This is the time where I grieve the image of myself that I had dreamt of.

It’s night time by the time I get back, Ingvarr is by my side quickly telling me how the runes don’t matter and that I make my own destiny. I nod to him and give him a soft smile, too tired to argue and too tired to think otherwise. The truth is that now the seed of fear has been planted in my mind, one that has to grow overtime waiting to bloom once the runes comes true.

“Bad things happen to good people” was what Valentin Marveille had said to him, Pascal remembered that while telling the other man about his wife he could feel his chest tightening. He had no idea how he had kept his grief to himself for so long, regardless it felt good to finally release it onto someone who understood.

Lord knows he couldn’t do it with Teles, everytime he brought up his wife was in a delusional happy tone and Pascal wanted to shake him until he saw reality. Part of him felt jealous of Teles, living in such a blissful delusion that he sometimes wished for himself. Part of him felt sadness that the man has to relive the news that his wife has passed. It filled him with anger and sadness. Teles was a good man, Valentin was a good man…why were they given such grief to cope with?

“Bad things happen to good people” repeated like a mantra in his brain, he was still trying to understand. He had always been such a devout man to the one true god, he did everything a good Benalian would do and so the idea that the dreadful Vecatra had taken his wife and baby from him made sense to him. Valentin had told him it was likely not Vecatra that had made him lose his wife, Pascal still wasn’t convinced.

But why hadn’t god stopped this from happening to one of their devout children?

Was Vecatra stronger than God? Not possible, he was sure of it. Maybe it was a test. He still feels slightly irritated that during the forum the priests all seemed busy, he wanted to speak of faith but he also felt like there were bigger matters going on in their important lives. It felt selfish for Pascal to want a priest to pat his back and tell him it was going to be okay, but sadly the more he thought about it the more he realized that is what he needed at the time.

His faith had been wavering lately because of his loss, and was searching for a hand to guide him towards the righteous path again.

Pascal’s father had always expressed to him the importance of knowing his place, and he knew that his issues weren’t the issues of the town. There were bigger things at hand that needed to be taken care of, like an ancient being and a terrifying stag walking into a grove where he had found a girl flayed alive a few days before. In the grand scheme of things, the voice of his father would say sternly, a gravedigger wanting to be comforted is not anything of importance.

Pascal agrees with this thought.

Valentin had said something about living on to be able to resolve his grief, he was willing to try it if that made the knot in his chest a little less tight.

With a sigh he snapped out of his thoughts and continued attending to the graveyard. There was work to be done, maybe that was enough to keep his dreadful thoughts away for now.

“Hold him down!” I almost yell at Vernon. Is he now a Father? I should ask what his title is since we never speak anymore.

Him and Mother Superior Solace do their best to console the Eparch but his trashing won’t stop. I put my weight on him so he can stop moving so much, this is the first time I’ve seen a patient fighting to die.

As I’m starting to prepare my stitching needle I can hear him saying how he’s proud of them, HIS people. I hear him say some more things but I drown them out, I need the utmost concentration on this procedure if I were to save him.

It’s not until I hear Mother Superior Solace say my name that I come back to the moment.

“Heimir…it’s okay…let him go.”

I look at Vernon, I know I must look confused and indignant. He nods and I see that the Eparch himself does not want to be saved. I reluctantly pull my hands now coated in blood away from him and hear him speaking to them both before he stops breathing. Both Vernon and Solace start crying and I can’t help but think how useless I feel at the moment. What was the point of bringing me here?

There’s so many people around, all just quietly staring at the scene. Blood is now dripping from my hands, the wetness making my hands feel like they’ve been frozen.
It’s so bitterly cold right now.

“He didn’t want me to…” I say and move away from the crowd, I don’t want to see or talk to anyone. Life is so important to some that they even beg to not die but this person willingly decided to not fight. How wasteful.

I say nothing to anyone as I get back into town. The blood is hard to get out, maybe it is because the water is so cold. It almost looks as if my hands were stained with his blood. The blood of someone that chose not to fight. What a waste.

Outside I see Ragnar talking with someone and I feel anger come to the surface. It had been him who had taken me to them, telling me to hurry and to run to save that man.

Before I can stop myself I start making my way towards him.

“Ragnar, next time you call me to save someone make sure it’s someone that actually wants to be saved.” I’m trying to not waver on my voice, it’s not normal for me to be rude but I can’t help the words that come out.

“I…they told me to get yo-”

I raise my hand to stop him from speaking, he stares at my blood stained hand as I do.

“I know you have your heart in the right place. But the Church doesn’t like people like me and there’s some of them that would rather die than let people like me save them. From now on if the Church needs someone saved they can come themselves. If not then I guess they die.”

I didn’t wait to hear anything back from Ragnar, there was no point in going back and forth. The rule had been created.

No wonder Dr. Tobias was the way he was…

[[[Good Evening!

Hope you enjoyed this beautiful sunny day, it’s been hot lately but this morning was just the right amount of crisp that I think Autumn is approaching.

It’s been a while since I’ve written to you, I apologize sincerely. I’ve been thinking about you lately, especially here in Runeheim. You should see how everyone gets along, you would enjoy it. I’ve met so many interesting individuals, I think you would also like them a lot. The people here seem really friendly and willing to help each other, there is no animosity I can see and that makes it easier to work alongside them.

Lady Dragomir is as kind as ever and oh! I haven’t told you but I got to save an inquisitor from dying! It was really terrifying at first because they were bleeding everywhere and everyone was looking at me like I knew what I was doing but I didnt! Well I mean it was my first time but I gained some confidence from it. You would be proud! When they coughed for the first time showing signs of life…well that was something special. It ignited a spark in me to learn more about it to save more people.

Oh oh! I also talked to a dwarf! Can you believe that?! Remember how I said I had always wanted to talk to one? Well it finally happened! They seemed funny, like they didn’t quite understand how humans work but I can’t blame them. Most people speak in codes and I don’t know why, I think you should just say what you mean. I liked them because they said what they meant.

The work of transferring our history into books is going well, I know this was entrusted to me and I don’t take it for granted. I do miss you though. A lot. I remember the last time we spoke you told me to be useful and I have taken these words to heart. I am trying my best to do all I can to make you proud.

I’ll promise to write to you sooner this time, I don’t want you to forget about me.

Love,
Heimir ]]]

He squinted his eyes as he signed the letter with his name, the sun was setting which made it harder to see with just the candle light shining dimly in the corner of his desk.

After giving his signature one last flourish he smiled, folding it over and pouring some wax over the folded edge.

He stretched gingerly as the wax ended up drying and as soon it was ready he got up from his desk and kneeled in front of his bed pulling a small chest. Heimir opened the chest, hundreds of letters sealed just like the one he had made and put his most recent one on top before closing the chest and pushing it under his bed again.

Marius drinks from his cup before staring at me with a look that I can assume is trying to read my soul.

“Leonce, the conversation we had last night with your friend was so interesting. He seemed like he knew a lot. How did you come across someone like that?”

I tell him how I was ambushed near his home after I fled from the Njord invasion here, how he saved me, how I almost poked him with a firestick when I woke up in his home because I was so sure he was going to kill me, how he nursed me back to health without asking for anything.

“Sounds like he’s an important friend to you.”

I chuckle at the word friend. For a moment I want to express all my feelings about the man to anyone that would hear them but I stop myself. I used to hate when people got mushy with feelings and I don’t intend to be one of them now. At least not to other people.

“He is someone very dear to me.” I reply with a tone that I hope sounds final.

Marius seems content with that response as he goes back to taking care of the tavern customers.

————————————————-

[[Two years ago]]

Something’s off today Leonce thought

Leonce tried to get a look at Alistair’s face but he couldn’t read any emotion as the man checked his ankle two months after Leonce had woken up in his cabin.

The first few weeks had been rough, Leonce trying to escape while Alistair was away. Once he got cornered by wolves right outside of Alistair’s land and had to call for help. Alistair was there so quickly that Leonce wondered how that was possible. Another time he got further but was caught in a blizzard and nearly froze to death before thankfully Alistair was able to find him. This rose to suspicion, how did Alistair knew where he was at all times while he wasn’t even in the cabin?

“It’s actually quite easy to follow your tracks…” Alistair had commented bemused after Leonce had angrily asked him when brought back from his second failed escape attempt, “you ARE dragging your injured foot through snow or mud, it leaves a trail.”

Slowly he started to trust Alistair. He figured that if someone had given him his house (and bed) to recuperate…they were one of those noble idiots that were trying to make everyone’s lives better. Leonce had met them before, and he wasn’t opposed to taking their generosity as long as they didn’t ask for anything in return.

They had a routine, Alistair would come in the morning (where he went during the night, Leonce didn’t know nor cared), checked his bandages, they would have breakfast and Alistair would write from his desk. Sometimes Leonce would ask questions, not anything that invaded the privacy of the man that helped him. Just questions of where he was, or what was the closest city. So far he hadn’t been able to check if the man had been right but something behind his answers told him Alistair was being truthful.

But there was something about today though, the air felt heavy with words unspoken.

Leonce was snapped from his thoughts as Alistair came over, a gentle hand picking up his ankle and inspecting it closely. Alistair’s eyes were furrowed, something he did when he was thinking hard about something.

Finally he let out a drawn out breath.

“Looks like it’s finally healed…” his voice sounded somber but the boy had no reason to believe Alistair felt that way “I’m guessing that you can be out of here by tomorrow if you want, though I would recommend another day…that way you can go into town and get things for your journey back home.”

Leonce felt his stomach drop. Leave? He hadn’t thought about that in more than a month. The older man’s company had been so…comforting that the idea hadn’t resurfaced again since his last escape attempt.

“Oh…right…” he messed with the hem of the shirt Alistair had let him borrow, staring intently at his hands. He hated that there was disappointment in his voice and could feel the man’s stare on him.

Alistair cleared his throat as he let go of the boy’s ankle, patting it softly before going to his desk to write.

The silence was tense, they could both feel it.

“I’ve never asked you where you were going, but I’m curious now that you’ll be leaving.”

Two months ago Leonce would have answered with a snark remark and refused to give him any information. But time had passed and trust had been gained little by little. Nevertheless he was surprised with how much ease he was able to answer the man.

“Away from Stragosa, possibly back to my country. There were people following me, just wanted to run.” he pulled the covers, around himself…feeling comfortable in the warm and realizing with disappointment that soon that comfort would be swapped for uncertainty. “I never really thought where I was going, just that I needed to leave that city.”

Alistair stopped writing, and Leonce waited to see if the man had something he wanted to say. If there was an idea though, he kept quiet about it and resumed writing. There was a small smile on his face, barely seen.

“It’s been nice having you around, Leonce.” he glanced up from his parchment, a true smile now on his face “but I understand the need to run, we all have our demons after all.”

Why was his heart beating so fast? There were no words that came out, the Cappacian merely nodded silently and pulled the covers over his face…trying to sleep comfortably one last night and trying to hide the heat that was coming on his cheeks at the moment.

—–

It took Leonce two more days to decide to leave. He kept putting it off, lying about his ankle was not feeling up to travelling yet. He was sure Alistair could see through his lies but indulged him anyway…something Leonce was grateful for.

There was a constant struggle in his mind-

One side was telling him that what he had here was special…reminded him of Ciro, his father figure. Hadn’t his best moments been with Ciro? Hadn’t these last four months felt like a weird dream? When was the last time Leonce had felt safe before meeting Alistair? When was the last time that he had felt this comfortable with anyone? Or rather when was the last time anyone had been this kind to him?

The other side was more insistent though. It was the side that reminded him how he had trusted Bouchard, a noble of Stragosa and what had happened then. Bouchard had broken that wall first, Leonce had grown an idiotic sense of loyalty towards the Capacian noble and that had ended up in the worst two nights of his life. He remembered calling for his lord and not seeing him come to his aid. He didn’t want to have that feeling again, to feel betrayed and alone.

The latter side had won in the end, and he packs food into a bag given to him by Alistair.

He walks towards the door, aware of Alistair’s silence and for a moment he wants to ask if he can stay. But the idea of rejection keeps him from opening his mouth. Alistair’s gaze feels burning on the back of his neck, he wants to ask Alistair if he is sad to see him go but doesn’t. It’s none of his business, and part of him thinks it’s maybe better not knowing.

Standing at the front door, he turns around to face the older man. There is a knot in his throat that he’s trying hard to ignore.

“I…” he clears his throat, trying not to look at Alistair or else he thinks his resolve to leave will waver “…..thank you…”

It’s not something that comes out of his mouth very often, but it feels strangely satisfying to say it to the man in front of him.

“I was glad I was able to help you…” and again there’s honesty in Alistair’s tone “If you are ever around these parts, my home is always open to you. I rather enjoyed your company…”

He nods, his heart beating fast as he turns away without another word. If he doesn’t leave now, he knows he won’t. But he can’t stay, he can’t be vulnerable again. Leonce walks without turning back, knows the cabin has disappeared from sight as he enters the forest.

“On the road again…” he whispers, and the hopelessness that escapes him takes him by surprise. So do the tears that he didn’t even know were already streaming down his face. Why now? He leans against a tree, hiding his face in his hands. These had been the best two months of his life, why was he so eager to end it? Was cautiousness really worth being unhappy his whole life?

He looked up at the sky, remembering a specific moment in time with Ciro that he hadn’t thought of in a long time.

~“Are you happy Leonce?”~

~The small young boy nods as he cooks a fish in front of a small fire. “I wasn’t before, but I am now.”~

~“This is what we live for, to prolong the good times as much as possible and to remember them when bad times try to suffocate us. Don’t seclude yourself from what makes you happy. Remember that.”~

He’s a mess now, tears seem a downpour and he’s not sure how to stop them. He wanted to be happy for once, wasn’t he always saying how selfish he was? This is the selfish thing he wanted above all, and damn it all he deserved to be selfish after the last year in that cursed city.

He doesn’t realize he’s running until he is gasping for air.

—–

The rain is heavy, sound soothing outside. Yet it somehow sounds hollow today.

There is a knock on the door and it startles Alistair as he drops the quill he’s been writing with. He moves cautiously towards the sound, unsure of what he will find at the other side.

His breath hitches as he opens the door and glances at the soaking boy staring up at him.

There’s nothing to be said, he simply smiles and moves aside to let Leonce in. The boy steps in without a word, panting and soaking wet from the rain outside.

Alistair closes the door as Leonce takes off his backpack and throws it in a forgotten corner.

The rain doesn’t sound so hollow anymore