Sagiro’s Story Hour, Part 364
Goodbyes
The greatest and wisest personages of Charagan, members of the Spire all, stand and stretch as the meeting adjourns. General Anabrook rolls her head to work out a crick in her neck before walking over to where the High Priestess Cornelia of Pikon talks with the diviner Belinda. “You say you’ve had visions?” Anabrook asks Cornelia. “That everyone except for Ozilinsh’s group needs to stay behind and protect the Kingdom? From what, exactly?”
Cornelia is obviously frustrated by the question. “By indirect evidence, something related to the Black Circle, given that our attempts to divine the specifics all failed. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
Dranko attaches himself to the edge of the conversation. “And Rosetta isn’t here, I can’t help but notice.”
“No,” says Belinda. “I couldn’t find her. She’s too well concealed by her Silver Shell anti-divinatories.”
“Which is not surprising,” adds Cornelia, “since we couldn’t find her last time, either. But she was up to great good, and performing a vital task. I trust she is doing something similar right now.”
/*/
One by one the guests file past the Company, shaking each of their hands, wishing them the best of luck, and assuring them that despite Parthol’s dire warnings, they’ll surely come back triumphant when all is said and done. But while the well-wishes are sincere enough, these assurances of a safe return ring a bit hollow.
As the teenaged Wellington offers his thanks and hopes for success, Dranko leans in and whispers, “Remember, girls don’t dig wizards who spend all their time at home with their noses buried in books. Get out there and live a little too, right?”
Wellington blushes and can’t stop himself from glancing at Glade. Dranko smirks.
When Yale is saying her goodbyes, Kibi asks her quietly, “Is the King… has he gotten worse recently?”
Yale clicks her tongue. “Long years of a constant need to know Masked subjects, have put an irreversible strain on his mind. It’s amazing that he’s lasted so long with this level of cogency. But he’ll be all right. It won’t kill him, and I don’t think he’ll become demented. It will just be difficult for him. We’ll keep him comfortable, and as sane as we can.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” says Dranko.
Yale bows her head in thanks.
“And so are we,” Dranko adds.
Yale smiles. “It’s been an honor to work with you all these years. The kingdom is lucky to have you.” She gives them one last searching look, an assessing look, perhaps wondering how great a challenge they’ll be able to meet, then smiles and walks out the door.
When the last guest has departed, Dranko looks down at the little pouch of translation stones left by Parthol Runecarver on the living room table. “I bet these things will allow Parthol to spy on us.” He scoops the pouch up anyway and puts it in his haversack. “So, the Underdark! Can you imagine all the loot down there that’s waiting for us to find?
“It’s a whole world of things you haven’t licked yet,” says Ernie.
“What do they grow in the Underdark?” asks Flicker worriedly. “Do you think they grow tobacco?”
“It’s probably all fungus,” says Dranko. “Have you ever smoked a fungus cigar?”
Flicker makes a face. “Then we’ll have to bring some with us. Do we have any extra bags of holding?"
/*/
The remainder of the afternoon sees the members of the Company teleporting about the kingdom, saying their goodbyes to friends and family. Kibi arrives in Eggemoggin and finds that his mother is at home, but his father is up in the high mountains looking to help those who need evacuating from earthquake- or lava-damaged regions. The seismic activity has ceased in the past day, but several mountain outposts have been damaged.
Kibi explains the nature of his errand as best he can to his mother. “…and we probably won’t be coming back,” he finishes sadly.
“I don’t believe that,” says Gela dun Bim. “But if it’s true, we’ll just have to wait a few more decades, and then we’ll see each other in Moradin’s halls and you can tell me all about it.”
Dranko has a number of stops to make. He starts with his grandfather in Tal Korum, then goes to the Church in Tal Hae to say goodbye to Harmon, Califax and Praska. Finally he visits Lucas in the Manse of the Undermen.
“Here’s the deal,” he says to Lucas. “This time I’ve been told we’re really not coming back, so it looks like you’re done with me.”
Lucas just rolls his eyes.
“No,” says Dranko earnestly. “Seriously. But either way, it’s been an honor and a pleasure working with you.”
Lucas gives Dranko a searching look. “Just try to remember everything, the next time you come back. I’m sick of explaining your own life to you.”
Aravis visits the Feline Conclave to warn them of what’s coming. Most of the cats are alarmed, but don’t seem to take in the true gravity of the situation. Only Inkspot, eldest of the Conclave, understands the enormity of what Aravis is telling them.
“Curious,” says Inkspot, “that with all this going on, there’s a movement among the Gods to prepare to flee. I have sensed none of it. Not from Quarrol, certainly. Perhaps the Gods don’t want anyone to panic.”
“Perhaps,” Aravis agrees. “But two of the Gods have vanished from this world already, and we hope it’s to prepare the way.”
Inkspot swishes his tail. “Don’t you think they would have told someone? Do the leaders of your human churches know?”
Aravis shakes his head. “None of them know for certain.”
“Human civilizations come and go,” says Inkspot. “A new set of humans may be moving in, but cats will always be here.”
“I suspect Quarrol will let you know what you need to do, when the time is right,” says Aravis.
“We will abide. Good luck, Aravis.”
“And to you. It’s been an honor being one of your number.”
/*/
After saying tearful goodbyes to his parents, Ernie plane shifts to Evergreen, to say his fond farewells to Yoba. He finds her relaxing in a field tent, but she leaps to her feet and runs to embrace him. He had planned to jump right in with breaking the news of his upcoming journey, but can’t quite muster the nerve. Instead he starts regaling her with the tales of his adventures since they had last spoken. She has loved listening to Ernie’s stories since the day the first met in Het Branoi, but as he sets in with the tale of the Crimson Maw, her attentive smiling face grows cloudy.
“Uh oh.” Ernie’s stops his narrative. “What did I do?”
“You didn’t tell me,” she says flatly. “You held Tava’s Righteous Fury in your hands, and you didn’t tell me!”
“Uh, I guess I did,” Ernie admits. “I… I gave it away to a great hero of Yondalla, in the burial place of the Gods.”
“Well of course you did,” says Yoba, frowning. “When you’re done with Tava’s Righteous Fury, you give it away, and it shows up where it’s needed next. That’s how it works.”
“So you’ve heard of it,” says Ernie, feeling his heart sink. “If you want, I can, uh, go back and get it for you.”
“No,” says Yoba. “It’s probably not there anymore, anyway. So you… no, it doesn’t matter. It’s fine.”
Ernie’s face crumbles. “It’s not fine. Even I can tell it’s not fine. You’re upset, and you have every right to be.”
“It’s my fault,” says Yoba. “I should have said something before it was too late.”
Ernie gives her a quizzical look.
“Did you know that I was named after Yoba Greenwater? She was one of the most famous heroes of my people. Probably the most famous. She was the only one on my world that had ever held Tava’s Righteous Fury. I had always wanted to hold it myself. Growing up, I secretly hoped I’d be the next one the sword chose to wield against the goblins.”
Ernie’s heart keeps sinking, right down to his toes. He has no words to express his remorse.
Yoba smiles at him. “At least tell me all about it,” she says. And so Ernie finishes his tale, and by the end it seems that Yoba has forgiven him.
“Ernie, promise me, if you ever need to fight goblins again, you’ll tell me, and invite me along.”
Now Ernie realizes he can’t put it off any longer. “I’m not sure I’m ever going to fight goblins again,” he says quietly. “They might not have them where we’re going next.”
“Oh.” Yoba can sense there’s more Ernie hasn’t said.
“Yoba,” he blurts, “I can’t come back from where we’re going. And you can’t come with me. What kind of cleric to Yondalla would I be if I took away their greatest defender?”
Yoba’s modesty is reflexive. “I’m not their greatest defender. A good military thinker, yes, but…”
“You understand what I’m saying,” says Ernie, hoping fervently that she does.
“That’s all right,” Yoba says with a smile. “I can still come with you. I don’t mind not coming back, as long as I’m not coming back with you.”
Ernie remembers to breathe. “I just can’t bear the thought that you would get killed because of me. We’re not coming back from the Underdark, but we probably won’t survive, either!”
“Oh, and it’ll be easy for me to live with myself, knowing that you might get killed in the Underdark, when I could have protected you!”
“I’m not very good at this, am I?” says Ernie in a small voice.
“Fortunately no,” says Yoba. “I’d hate to think you’ve had practice.”
They both laugh, and then look at each other for a long time, until they have reached a wordless understanding. Yoba holds his hands between her own.
“Ernest, look at me. Look right in my eyes, and promise me you’ll come back. I know you don’t think you can. I know you’ve been told you can’t. But I know you’ve been told things like this before, so look at me, and promise me you’ll come back.”
Ernie looks into Yoba’s deep green eyes. “I promise. I promise I’ll come back.”
Yoba takes a step back and breathes a sigh of relief. “Then I will wait for you,” she says. “And don’t even think about telling me we need to break off our engagement.”
“I, uh, already thought about it, but I’ll unthink it. And here, I have something else to show you. It’s not Tava’s Righteous Fury, but…”
He draws the Honor of Nemmin, and tells her more stories of his adventures. When his narrative has caught up to the present, Yoba takes his hands again and squeezes them.
“I’ll think about you every day. And so will Yondalla. Besides, something tells me I’ll see you again before it’s all over. It’s just a feeling I have. So be of good faith, and get ready to kick the Adversary’s ass.”
Ernie lets go of her hands and fishes out the token that will let him plane shift back to Abernia. Yoba gives him a slightly mischievous smile and makes a simple request.
“Can you stay the night?”
Ernie sets all existing records for fastest blush, turning a deep red all the way to the tips of his ears.
Yoba laughs. “Think it over, then, and plane shift back if you decide you’d like to.”
But Ernie brightens and exclaims, ”Cayyat!”
“Excuse me?”
He tells her about the Company’s plans to spend a couple of months in the timeless demiplane of Cayyat, crafting and studying one final time before their downward journey.
“You could come with us,” says Ernie. “From your point of view, no time will pass here at all!”
Yoba cannot suppress her delight. “So I get to spend an extra month with you, and they won’t miss me here at all? I don’t see the downside. Count me in!”
/*/
When all are reunited later that day, Aravis opens up the door to Cayyat, and in they go. As before, they are standing on the deck of a mountainside cabin, with a crystal blue lake down below reflecting sunshine in a dazzling shimmer. They go into the cabin and find that the little goblinoid caretaker Gibbil is there waiting for them.
“Don’t kill him,” whispers Ernie to Yoba. “He’s a good guy.”
“Hello, masters,” says Gibbil. “Nice to see you again.”
“Say,” says Ernie. “Will Cayyat open into whatever plane it’s activated upon, or is it tied to Abernia in some way?”
“I’m sure I don’t know, sir,” says Gibbil. “I never leave Cayyat. If you don’t mind my asking, where do you expect to be?”
“We’re off to the Underdark to kill the Adversary,” says Dranko modestly.
Gibbil blinks. “Could you say that one more time, sir? I must have misheard you.”
“We’re going to the Underdark,” says Dranko, “which is an underground world sealed off by the Gods, and we’re going to kill the Adversary.”
“I see, sir,” says Gibbil. “Utterdark.”
And upon that pronouncement by the little goblin, the cabin is plunged into darkness so deep, even their daily mass darkvision is foiled.
…to be continued…
