One ornate pot of ash stood at the centre of a row of corpses.

Blankets covered the bodies, yet even the curtain often failed to veil the state of the bodies. Where heads or limbs should have been, the cloth slouched to the dirt. Small amounts of blood soaked from cold wounds into the fabric.

The total toll of lives had been four teachers and three students. Seven brave souls less, now on their way to the Trunk, to be used as the gods decided. Certainly, they would enjoy some time in the heavens, before their Sparks were reborn in another shape.

Even if their souls continued, their lives were over. For those left behind, the knowledge of heaven was a soothing reality. It dulled the pain of those that had survived thanks to the bravery of the fallen. Of the party members and students of those that had given everything.

The entirety of the combat group stood in a large crowd around the pit, where the bodies lay. The wooden boards had been removed, leaving only damp dirt. Any signs of the battle, the rain had washed away. Only the corpses, the scars, and the tail curving around Apexus’ feet were proof now of it ever happening.

The humanoid chimera stood two metres removed from his teacher. In a wheelchair, Maltos sat, his eyes struggling to stay fully open. For the past two days, he had been like that. What little of his prime had remained, had fully passed. His remaining muscles had withered away, his skin was spotty, and his hair was thinning by the hour. The one remaining hand laid in his lap, his leg covered by a blanket.

With one deep breath, Maltos pulled his shoulder back and raised his voice, echoing the energy he had before the fight. “I have few words left,” he confessed. “To know the risks of enacting justice does not dull the pain of the ultimate sacrifice. We walk this path with strength of will. Some of us shine brightest in our last moments. Martyrdom is not the end one should strive for, yet its nobility should always be respected. Today, we lay to rest seven brave souls. Helmut, Jenna, Kaine, Sir Redahn, Velmina, Jakob, and Pronthin. A minute, for their sacrifice.”

Silence overcame the group. A tiny cough caused Apexus to turn his head and glance at the crowd that had gathered beyond their funeral gathering. With the danger beaten, the inhabitants returned to their homes. They kept a respectful distance and joined in the silence, for the most part.

“We lay them to rest here, where they have fallen,” Maltos continued. “This is what they wished, so it will be done. Take your last gazes upon your comrades, your teachers. Then, let’s show them the final honour.”

Maltos gave a signal with his hand and one of his assistants pulled back the wheelchair. For the next half hour, people would step up to the edge of the pit and mumble something, if they said anything at all. For many, saying what they wanted in their minds was enough.

Apexus accompanied Aclysia to the edge. “What do I say to him?” the angel asked, eyes trained on the urn.

“I don’t know,” the Monk responded.

Aclysia stayed silent for a long while, before mumbling, “I hope you found a satisfying answer, mentor… and thank you for every lesson, however bitter it may have been.”

The funeral proceeded. Shovels were passed around and the same hole that they had all dug for the fight was getting filled in. What had taken them days to excavate was filled in during one evening. Many hands joined them, many shovels were brought in. There were more than the adventurers who had fought that saw to this final rite.

Apexus worked in silence, but it wasn’t too long before his ears picked up the first laughter. After that, it did not take too long for the mood to rise from the sombre silence. These people were used to death. They had stared at it blankly in the face before. The teachers had done so until they had their fill, the students readied themselves to see it over and over again.

Well past midnight, the final patting down of the dirt was concluded. A small hill remained, marked with a tree that Druids and Shamans together helped grow. Its leaves were a foreboding red, a remembrance of the blood that had been spilled.

Under the branches of that young tree, long tables were put up. The funeral had passed and so it was time for celebrations. To remember the fallen and the joys of life. Those that had lost party members or friends were understandably less jovial than others, but all drank from the barrels that were rolled out.

Apexus and his party sat outside the bounds of the main party. Only Reysha really cared to mingle with such a crowd, but she stuck with the rest of them. The slime sniffed the beer that had practically been shoved in his hands. He took a sip of alcohol and quickly put it aside. Like every other time, he did not like the taste nor the way it made his insides feel.

“More for me,” Reysha joked and grabbed the tankard. One in each hard, she went back and forth.

“Isn’t that disgusting to you?” Korith asked.

“Oh, it’s fucking vile,” Reysha responded and burped, least of all because of the gases bound in the drink. “Tasted like rotten eggs crossed with mould and pig piss - But I’m getting shitfaced tonight.” She wretched and barely managed to wrestle the vomit back down. “Alright… maybe not…” she poured the contents of one tankard into the soil.

Before the second could follow, her arm was grabbed by slender fingers. “And why do the heroes of the day sit so far outside the celebrations?” Anohal peeled out of invisibility, just as he took the tankard from the redhead. The follower of Hashahin took a huge gulp and climbed halfway up the small hill they had made themselves comfortable by. It marked the border between the plaza and one of the larger properties. The Priest balanced on the artificial ridge, putting his arms wide out, as if he was struggling with such a simple task. “You are the cause of the fight and none can question either your participation or the glory of the survivors. None would protest you joining.”

“What they would do is besides what we want,” Apexus told the man of the Church.

“And what is that?” Anohal wondered. When no answer came, he laughed and jumped, landing butt first next to Korith. The kobold eeped and cuddled more intensely against her man. “A difficult question, it appears. Typically, there is a simple answer, the true answer, and the current answer. In your role, these likely are: freedom, you aren’t sure yet, and a bit of silence.”

“If you can read the room that fucking well, why the fuck are you here?” Reysha hissed.

“Unlike you, my presence in these celebrations is merely tolerated.” Anohal downed the entire rest of the tankard, then leisurely tossed the empty container over his shoulder. “The late arrival is only popular in shoddily written plays. The role I fill in this current play does not require me to be popular, however.” The smile suddenly turned into a frown. “Albeit, it was regrettable how things panned out. The Church is a lumbering behemoth, capable of crushing anything, yet rarely ever in time. I hope the Inquisitor survived his off-stage role as a delaying factor.”

“What do you want?” Apexus asked.

Anohal’s smile swiftly returned. One after the other, he gave the four of them a once-over. “To narrow down your archetypes. I believe I have seen enough for the night. Exit stage left. Teacher, enter stage right.”

Before all their eyes, the Priest of the Actor god disappeared. “What a bothersome man,” the tired voice of Maltos moved everyone’s eyes to the right. The old monk himself barely managed to cut through the magical veil, until Anohal had backed off further. His eyes returned to the party. “I take it you feel odd about joining such a festivity?”

“These three do,” Reysha responded and playfully kicked Apexus’ knee. “Antisocial that they are.”

“Too much noise,” Apexus stated.

“Tall crowds are scary, all was easier back in Hoard,” Korith added.

Aclysia stayed silent, continuously cuddling up against her beloved. Noticing this, Maltos gestured for his assistant to push him a little closer. “It appears you are not taking Pronthin’s parting well?”

“I…” Aclysia took a moment to sort her thoughts. “…he remains an enigma to me. I cannot understand how he, who was so committed to his lack of certainty, would find such peace in death.”

“Pronthin had his troubles, more than most of us.” Maltos blinked and failed to open his eyes all the way on the way up. “What you must remember is that he may have been eccentric and cynical, but he never wanted anything else besides the best for everyone. Remember him, if I may suggest so, by the way he lived, not by all the bitterness his words had to offer.”

Aclysia nodded. Weakly once, then stronger two times. “I will… thank you.”

“I must admit that I have never been one for celebrations either,” Maltos turned the topic. “Drink was never my strong suit, nor was it to be as jovial as these occasions demand. My comrades always called me stiff.” He chuckled. “Not that I am in any condition to celebrate even if I wished to.”

“”Teacher…”” Apexus spoke in unison with the assistant. Both of Maltos’ students were immediately worried for the old man.

“We all have our time,” Maltos told the two of them. “Steady your breathing, control your grief. It honours me that you feel it. It honours me more if you remember the lessons I imparted to you.” Audible breaths were taken, spines straightened. “That is proper. The truth is that I don’t know how much more time I have.” Maltos looked at his hand and the loose skin that wrinkled on top of the bones. “I have used the Physical Gate to exhaustion. My body is too damaged now to overcome what I had to do to myself. I may only have a few more weeks or I might make it a couple more years. My practical teaching days are over… do you think I did anything regrettable since I met you, Apexus?”

Apexus thought long and hard about that question. Was there anything his teacher should have done differently? That he himself would have changed about what had transpired? Ultimately, the Monk shook his head.

“Then there is no need to regret the state I am in. It is a sacrifice willingly made,” Maltos gave them a weak smile. “If you do not care to stay, would you perhaps accompany me back to the temple. I’d like to have a few words with you and to give you something.”

Apexus nodded, knowing none of his party members would protest.

Maltos spent the way asleep. After departing the plaza, his head simply tilted to the side and he was out. Few words were exchanged, neither between the party members nor between them and the assistant. The teacher only awoke when he was lifted out of his wheelchair and placed on the same pillow he always sat on, opposite to everyone else.

Almost, one could ignore the empty sleeve and aged appearance of Maltos, when he sat there. Almost, until it became clear how much he struggled to remain upright. “Have a rest, Hiron,” he told his assistant. “I’ll call you, if necessary.”

“Please do, teacher,” the assistant said and bowed, before leaving the room.

“I want to give you all some last advice, as a teacher,” Maltos told them. “One last time, as long as I still can, if you would listen?”

“Go ahead,” Reysha was quickest to answer.

An amused, tired chuckle left the old man’s throat. “Ever the quickest to speak. A boldness I admire.” Maltos forced himself awake and focused. “I believe you have already come to the conclusion to travel to another Leaf?”

“We have not come to a decisive conclusion on that train of thought,” Aclysia said.

“Then let it be my advice that you leave. Apexus, please check under my bed. There is a small box there.” The humanoid chimera stood up and lifted the thin, narrow mattress that the old man called his bed. Underneath, in a depression under the wooden framework, he found a metal box. The insides rattled, when he lifted it.

Maltos took it with his remaining hand and lifted it against his lips. He whispered a word and the lock snapped open. With a trembling arm, he put it down and lifted the lid. Of the many small items inside, he placed two on the table. One was a compass, a needle pointing stubbornly north-east under a glass dome. The other was a golden key, ornamented considerably.

“This is a Leaf Finder – Have you ever heard of them?”

Aclysia, Apexus, and Reysha all shook their heads, only Korith nodded. “I, uhm,… I sorta have one,” she told everyone else. “You know, to find my way back to Hoard?”

“How come you never showed us?” Reysha asked.

“Well, I only really sorta have it when Hoard says I deserve it?”

“Interesting,” Maltos commented, then suppressed a mild cough. “The purpose of the device is clear. It always points at the path towards the Leaf it was created on. Currently, it points towards the Leaf of Terimaj. I believe, there you can find someone who can teach you the Gate Techniques. I do recommend that you find a few Leaves on the way, to hone your abilities as usual. Do as adventurers do. Conquer dungeons and help the people.”

Maltos slipped the compass over the table and Apexus then moved it towards Aclysia. “Why do you recommend we leave?” the angel asked, before picking it up. “We have more that could be taught.”

“You need to step out of the shadow that chases you,” Maltos responded immediately. “To stay here is to continue to prepare yourself for Apotho and Apotho alone. His terror cannot define you. I wish for all of you to leave your mark on the Omniverse. Even if he succeeds to get the better of you one day, I believe you will have improved this tree of ours more than he can rip away.”

“I agree with him,” Apexus said.

“Honestly, if I keep just practicing things, I’ll go fu- mental,” Reysha stated.

“Not a lot I can learn here anyway,” Korith grumbled. “Stupid Vulk…”

“…Then it appears we truly will leave,” Aclysia grabbed the compass. There were other Priests that could have taught her, but not much more than she currently knew. Whatever knowledge pursued in this Leaf would truly leave them preparing only for the next assailant Apotho would send for them.

“This second item is all I can give you,” Maltos then slid the golden key over the table. “What else I may have parted with was destroyed or I reserve for another one of my pupils. This, however, I believe will be most pleasing to one who will make the pilgrimage.”

Apexus picked up the key and felt a tingle on his fingers. A wordless intent from the inside reached out for his mind. “It wants to make a binding?” the humanoid chimera wondered out loud.

“This is a Wandering Estate,” Maltos explained. “The spirit within allows access to a pocket dimension that you can use for storage and rest. The capacity of this realm grows with your level. As you currently are, it should at least be of a similar size to that house you currently stay in. I believe you will find it more homely than sleeping in tents during a rainstorm. Safer as well. Without the means of subverting a dimensional barrier, the door opened will be invisible and impassable except for those you wish able to.”

“This is most appreciated,” Aclysia said.

“Room! For gold! To then offer!” Korith squealed.

“Do with it as you wish, but be warned. The spirit inside is a rulekeeper. The door will not open, unless it deems the situation safe and it errs on the cautious side.” Maltos’ eyelids again grew heavy. “Apexus, if you alone could stay for one more moment.”

The humanoid chimera turned to his party. The trio of gorgeous women rose. “We will wait outside, darling,” Aclysia promised, taking the key with her. They would decide later who exactly it would bind to.

Maltos reached under the table and placed one last item on top. It was a leather book, only as thick as Apexus’ hand. The brown animal hide was in expert condition and clearly new. No letters were pressed into the cover. Apexus knew what it contained without opening it. “The Techniques of the Flowing Waters school, in your own writing, with personal notes attached.”

“Thank you, teacher.” A heavy lump sat at the back of the slime’s throat, even though there was nothing actually there.

“Put the box away, then help me into the bed,” Maltos requested. Picking him up was almost too easy. He was little more than skin and bones now. His weight was comparable to that of Aclysia. Gently, the slime placed his teacher on the thin mattress. Not knowing what else to do, Apexus sat by the bedside. This was not the first time he watched a frail old man with worry. This one harboured no secrets greater than the ones he had shared already.

Maltos struggled against his tiredness and reached out. He placed a hand on the cheek of the humanoid chimera.

“We will have no greater goodbye than tonight, Apexus,” he said weakly. “Always carry in your heart… that I would have… chosen no one else… as my final student…” The hand slowly sunk down, until it dangled loosely over the edge of the bed.

Apexus quietly took it and raised the knuckles to his forehead. For several minutes, he just sat there like that. Then, he carefully placed the hand on top of the chest. Slowly it rose and fell, according to the rhythm of his quiet breaths. The humanoid chimera bowed his head.

“Thank you for everything, father.”