《Fenrin's Tale - a third chronicle of the Children of the Bear》11. Freedom
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Straightening his sword one more time, Fenrin grimaced. It was not nearly as nice as the one he'd had, but alas that one was now a chain in the manacle he'd escaped. Fenrin shouted out of the bath house for a mirror and razor. They were delivered by a tight lipped woman with large arms that Fenrin guessed had seen a forge. He trimmed his beard down to his usual goatee and emerged.
"Let's talk to the troops then."
The prison cells were smaller than his. The men inside mostly dozing off or playing cards through the bars. As Fenrin walked in, Tyrik jumped to his feet.
"What idiot let a wolf out in the open?" he shouted grinning. The men leapt to attention and Fenrin grasped Tyrik's hand, happy to see the man alive.
"Who can keep one caged is the question? This lovely lady and I have come to a business arrangement." He gestured to Jayln and Tyrik looked at her with recognition.
"Oh?"
"Yes, we've got a job scoped out but I need you and the rest of the pack to head back south."
Tyrik's eyes narrowed. "Nearly a month behind bars and you want us to up and leave this village standing."
"Yes."
It was an order. Non-negotiable. However, he gestured Tyrik to the side of the cell, the other occupants respectfully moving away from the boss and his second.
"I've got a nice spot of land and a plan forming, but I need you to keep kitten out of the north until I've got things scouted."
"Alright, shouldn't be difficult considering how occupied her time was last time we checked. But why not keep some of us with you?"
"After our last performance? I've had a lot of time to think and I think it's time we leave Bryn's men with Bryn." Tyrik nodded understandingly, flashing the other men a look before turning his attention back to his boss. Fenrin clasped his shoulder. "After you drop off the goods and make sure we're clear, come back and find me."
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Tyrik nodded, appreciating the trust Fenrin was putting in him. Jayln listened to everything intently. "Where will you be?"
"Not sure quite yet and the usual method for finding me won't work this time. I'll leave markers."
Tyrik nodded. "Ok, so when do we get out?"
"Now." Fenrin nodded at Jayln.
There was a bit of chaos as the men were freed, confused when Fenrin didn't order them to attack but instead leave. But leave they did, under Tyrik's watchful eye. As soon as the last bandit was out of sight, Jayln asked, "What's the usual method?"
"Hm?"
"For finding you. You told Tyrik the usual method wouldn't work. Why not?"
Fenrin was not surprised she'd paid close attention. He turned and winked at her. "Following the bodies of course."
He walked off grinning at finally having gotten a flinch from her.
However, after he turned his back, Jayln smiled for a moment as the full implication hit her. The usual method wouldn't work because Fenrin planned to keep his word.
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From the Final World
I have lived a long, long time. Longer than the universe knows; longer than any star has seen or traveling light records. My memories; that is all that is left that knows that length, and that which was seen within it. Then again, that is all that ever did. When I am gone, it will be forgotten, a truth and a history lost forever no matter who or what tries to find it. I think that is why I write this now. A record, or a lament, of the most significant being of all time. It is a prideful exaltation of endless triumph, or the dread condemnation of infinite evil. I don’t know which; I shall leave it for others to judge. I could explain further, of course. I could list the sins that have been committed, the deeds that have been done. Yet for now, I believe this is enough. Her story will speak for itself. About the good, and evil, in the heart of a single girl burdened with more than her fair share. And how she reacted to it. So, I will tell her story. Of gods and devils, mortals and monsters, of legends long forgotten and civilizations long turned to dust. And in the end, I hope she knows herself, whether it is salvation, or destruction, she should receive.
8 175The Strays of Dachaigh Gual
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