Chapter 5: Epilogue

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

“You are exactly as strong as you need to be, my child.”

The carriage and two wagons came to a stop after exiting Ombrir’s Pass, the drivers putting them in the familiar triangle configuration they’d been using for the last month. A dozen people filled out or climbed off the vehicles, eager to stretch their legs.

Nyla clapped her hands above her head in an effort to get everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone, 15 minute break, then you all are making straight for the Bastion. I’ll be keeping wagon-two and a few people to take care of a personal matter, and we’ll catch up with you this evening.” A few murmurs of confusion were mostly drowned out by the celebratory air of having reached the Plain. Nyla walked over to where her adopted son had wandered off to, standing wearing his usual sleeveless vest in front of a pair of stone cairns that most of the others had probably written off as scree fallen from the steep barrier wall surrounding the Plain. “Are you ready, Russer?” she said, placing her hand on his bare shoulder that glimmered with gold inked tattoos on his pale green skin.

He sighed. “I think so.” He reached up and grasped a small leather pouch he wore on a cord hanging down off his neck, squeezing it tightly. “I have the reagent, and I communed this morning. I believe I can cast the spell.” His head dropped, and Nyla saw tears falling from his face hit the thirsty ground below. “I just don’t know if I’m ready.” He said, fighting back a sob.

“I believe in you.” Nyla said, pulling him into a hug, his mousy brown mop of hair coming halfway up her chest. “Gwyn believes in you.” She said, looking back to where his other adopted parent was skillfully keeping anyone else from interrupting them. “And your mother believed in you.” Looking down at the smaller pile of stones before them. “And she is going to tell you that herself, today.” Sobs continued to wrack Russer for a minute before he was able to get them under control.

“Professor Cragwatcher.” A young Tagne Elf called from the group. “We’re heading out.”

“Thank you, Thana.” Nyla said, raising her voice and waving with one hand, keeping the other tightly gripping Russer. She watched as the carriage, the same one they had brought out here seventeen years ago, rolled north with wagon-one following behind.

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Gwyndolyn brought wagon-two nearer once the others had gotten an earshot away, stopping the gnorses so that the wagon would block the line of sight of the rest of the party, giving the three of them a bit more privacy for what was to come. “You ready?” Gwyndolyn asked.

“Can you two remove the stones? I need a few minutes to center myself.” Russer said. He sat down, cross legged in the dirt with his hands on his knees, then closed his eyes. Nyla and Gwyndolyn began disassembling the mound, one stone at a time, until the mortal remains of Rosie Mossfoot were laid bare to the sky.

The intervening years had been mostly kind. The dry climate and lack of micro fauna on the Plain had left her body easily recognizable, if desiccated. “We’re ready when you are.” Nyla said.

Russer stood and removed a diamond the size of his thumb from the pouch and placed it on his mother’s chest, above her heart. He kneeled down and sat on his feet in front of her. “Please place your hands on my shoulders, lend me your strength.” He asked his other mothers. Nyla stood on his left, Gwyndolyn on his right, both complying with his request. Russer extended both of his hands, palms up, and began focusing his energies into the spell.

Minutes passed before anything happened. A wind picked up, gentle at first, then coming in faster, swirling around until everyone’s hair was whipping. The golden tattoos under Nyla’s and Gwyndolyn’s hands glowed and shifted, slowly extending down Russer’s arms. Melting, flowing, until his upturned palms looked like they were each cupping a pool of liquid gold. The gold jumped from his hands, creating an arcing bridge from each to the diamond.

Russer began chanting. Quietly at first, but gaining volume with each recitation. While not fluent in either, Nyla recognized both Goblin and Halfling words in Russer’s verbal spell components. The wind was abating as everything beyond a few paces was becoming darker, despite the sun still remaining high in the sky. Pulses of glowing energy began moving from Russer’s palms, along the arcing gold, to the diamond, which was shrinking imperceptibly with every passing moment. The wounds inflicted on that night seventeen years ago began closing, the flesh filling out and regaining color, little by little, bit by bit.

Russer was sweating. Nyla could feel him trembling under her hand with the effort of channeling this spell. She reached deep into herself, pushing willpower and love through their connection, knowing that Gwyndolyn was doing the same.

With one final burst of exertion, a final pulse left Russer’s hands and landed on the tiniest remaining sliver of diamond. A gasp of breath, from four sets of lungs, cracked the tension that had been building for nearly an hour. Rosie opened her eyes, for the first time in nearly two decades. They whipped around for a moment, then focused and landed on her son. “Russer?” She said.

“Hi mom.” He said, tears flowing to join the sweat covering his face. “Welcome back.”