Anniversaries...

[Khalika]

"I forgive you..."

She wakes a sweaty shaking mess, hand instinctivly reaches for the dagger that lays under her pillow. Her upper body snapping to sit up in the small bed provided in each room. Eyes blurred look into the darkness..dead silenence save for the faint murmurs from the Tavern below. legs fall over the sides as elbows hit bare knees and she stares blankly at the floor, a hand reaches for her brow and only then does she realive that she holds her dagger in her hands. the jagged edge of the blade gleaming in the tiny streams of light now seen pushing through the small cracks of closed window shutters. She barracades herself from the coming light as she has barracaded herself for many years both inside and out. No connections, no regrets...but how often does that really work?..and that hollow answers lies within those vicious looking teeth of a ivory hilted dagger.

"I forgive you..."

Regret, memories...They cut deeper then the weapon ever could she has often woundered why she hasn't thrown the blasted thing into the bottom of the near by lake. But one always keeps their demons close it seems, and she wears hers like a heavy cross. the amred hand then drifts towards the night table stabbing the blade upon the surface she knocks over one of the many bottles that are spread about the room, it falls to the floor and shatters sending her reeling from her bed, pools of liquid soon reach bare toes.

The smell of alcohol and sweat now reaches her senses and sends her to stumble towards the windows throwing open the shutters the cool night air hits her like a rock as a heavy breath escapes her lips...eyes close slightly as goose bumps travel up one arm and down the other..The feel of the coming dawn has her eyes looking out towards the forest, as the birhtings of new light hit off the orange and reds of the fall leaves.

The fall...God how she hates the fall, the cool nights,the anniversaries, the death it brings. For in her lifetime, they all have died in the fall...and it seems upon her return they still are.

"I forgive you..."

A shake of the head sends those words to fade from memory, those words that come along with the same ease as the coloring of leaves each year...for the last five. It was those words that brought her here those years ago, to bring a hero, to bring a man, to bring a lover home to be barried near his family. It was the least she could do after killing the one truth in her life, because she had not the courage to trust. She so easily believed the betrayal and he forgave her...She so easily slide that jagged blade across his throat, and he forgave her. As he laid dying in her arms, tears trickling down her cheek as she came to see too late that it was she not he who betrayed. Betrayed thier love, their hard fought trust. Even as life slipped from his eyes a hand stained red lifts to wipe her tears, no anger layed in his, no hurt, for he knew inthe end she could be no more then what she was, and he forgave her..

So she brought him home, to a grave in the left corner fo the grave yard. To the Woods of Myrken he spoke so highly of, the woods he wanted to steal her away too once the war had ended....and so he did in the end, binding her to this place, to his memory. Other lay there now..or at least she suspects they do, though she has yet to have the heart to ask where they lay. Some part of her hoping if she see not their graves then they are not yet dead in her eyes...but that is a fools errand, for they are gone...two friends who she left withouth saying good-bye, Had thay forgave her?...would they forgive her for not being their when they needed her most?..for not saying a final good-bye?..

-To be continued-

[Khalika]

Still stands before the window, a shirt pulled over head as she watches the beginnings of the day. What would McDougal think if he saw her in such a state. WEll she has a pretty good idea what he would say, but never could get a hold of what his mind was piecing together. That Bloody half-elf always had his fingers in too many honey pots for her liking. Eyes then fell away from the landscape to the table, astruned with papers bottles and a variety of otherthings. The clutter would make some peoples head spin. But somewhere in the mess was a correspondance never sent..on the front of the envolope rested one name Tryalor McDougal, and inside a short note and a silver coin. She was on the outskirt of the lyken sea when she came across the coinage, upon it the face of one of the past rulers of the land...nothing special, to most travelers...but she found it quiet funny to notice the face held a striking resemblance to an old friend, the resemblance so keen she at first thought it too be a joke. but it was indeed the proper coin of the land. Taking one she placed it in an envolope with a short note which read.

McDougal
I always new you'd get your face on money someday.
Quiller

Nothing special, just a joke sent from one friend to another...but it was never sent..She always thought she'd have time, but they put to sea sooner then expected and by the time they reached port again she was heading back and figured she could give it to him herself...But came home instead to find an empty chair, and the story of a death....

Not one death but two....Damn them, Damn them both!...Why couldn't they wait, hold their tongues not gotten in the middle of whatever sent them to the ground...at least till she could get home and help. Get home and watched their back. To say good-bye. now she has nothing left but the memories of a tea drinker and a deal maker.

What would he say indeed...a smirk tempts her lips as she turns from the window day light filling the room fully now, she heads for the table. Dressing quickly she pulls her boots on and grabs her belt and the previously thought of envolope. and heads for the door...

It's time for a few Good-byes...

[Khalika]

"So you got married did yah?"

She speaks in a low voice standing before the grave of one Tyralor Ashley Shannon McDougal. It was well passed midday, before she finally made her way to the graveyard, passed through rows of tombstone pausing briefly at one that read Captain Dexter Casion. There she could barely stand to be there, only Stalling to kneel down as a hand carries a kiss to the tombstone and then she is gone till she finds her friend. Resting she hopes peacefully. Crouching down before his grave she clears away some dried brush, and old flowers from around his grave.

"Never really thought you to be the marrying kind.."

She continues as if he was there to hear her.

"Fate worse then death i thought you once said, 'course that could have been me. We both know how selective my memory can be."

She is now crushing the dried petals of the flowers left behind, and spreading them over the grave. An old Rhomy tradition so the memories they brought would never leave him. Though depending on who brought them..he might not wish such to follow him to the afterlife..For she knew well enough of his reputation in these parts, in fact one he considered a good fried refered to him on more then one occasion as the Prince of Darkness...or PoD. She is somewhat surprised that is not ingraved somewhere upon the stone. Though what as there she guessed suited him well enough. though thinks it doesn't come near to summoning up the whole of the mans eliberate lifetime.

"Well I guess we all must do what we think is right at the time and seeing as I wasn't there to knock a bit of sence into you. Sorry for that by the way..But if you could forgive me. i can forgive you..Deal?"

There of course is no answer...

"Deal it is then.....though i'm not sure i can forgive you for dying...you were alway the one who had someone watching his back.. I can't believe i was the only one!"

Those words left a dryness in her mouth what if she was...no impossible...but what if?..a heavy sigh as she fidgits with the letter in her hand.

"I'm sorry McDougal, for not being there when you found your end. Weather i could have prevented it or not...who knows... but you know i would have died trying. and when they do finally all agee upon who did you in, you better believe i'm going to have a long talk in a dark room with him/her/it."

Turns her eyes down to look upon the envolope and slowly tares it open...

"oh by the way I found something i thouht you might find amusing."

the silver coin drops into her palm, holding it up...

"its you..or as close to you as i've ever seen...but as i said in this"

she hold up the note..

"I always thought one day you would somehow get your face on coin...though i bet you this silver coin you would have wanted it on gold!"

she chuckles, thinking of his rebukes and faint smirks that would have most likly passed her way if he were here, but at any rate she soon has a small hole dug at the base of the tombstone, and barries the coin. Soon after smoothing over the dirt she stands. Once more looking down. All joy set aside as eyes slightly well up in their corners..

"Fare thy well Tyralor Ashley Shannon McDougal...and good-bye old friend."

She turns away quickly wiping the wetness from her face uttering something about dirt and dust in her eyes.....yeah dirt and dust, cuss everyone knows this one sheds tears for no one.

But she isn't even done, and soon before two gaves she rests one old. yet belonging to youth....one new and belonging to well maybe not old...but older...

"Dhugal Macpharlan...What have you done to yourself?....I know you've always wanted to get away....but this is a touch extreme."

She pauses..not having such sly remarks to lay before this one. She simply drops down to sit by the grave, one hand errnatly picking at the grass beside it. She always felt comfortable with this one. even if it was a comfortable silence. Both seated at the bar. him with his tea...her with her scotch. Not much was spoke most timee, not much was needed to..But she held him in the highest reguards, this french-scottsman, or was it Scottish-frenchman. She never did get that straight. And even in those time when there ideals clashed. She never thought of him as anything less then a good man, and it seems it was his down fall.

"So who were you trying to save this time?...You bloody Numpty!.."

She doesn't even try to replicate his accent cuss she knows he would craw out of that grave and berate her for it..He did have a way with words though...

"you never said much....you never had too...for when you did speak most alway listened..i know i did..even when you thought i wasn't, and now who will drink this?"

She pulledout a pouch of the tea he so regularly partook in. Another hole dug, another parting gift barried.

"Just in case you get thristy on this new rode your heading down."

Again she is standing, a gentle smile slips across her lips, as she looks down upon his name...

"Fare thy well Dhugal MacPharlan, and Feasgar Math old friend.."

She is then heading back towards the gate eyes swelling once more...damn it all to hell..there must be something in the air...

[Aeri`]

The loss of her memory had prevented her from remembering the two friends till very recently. Her memory had been slowly coming back to her with some.

The dirt was smoothed out and fresh cut wild flowers were placed upon Tyralor Ashley Shannon McDougal's grave. The ground felt cold and indication of Winters presence on it's way.

He was the husband of Quincy McDoughal. The girl had come into the elf's life from the beginning. She kept an close eye on the girl as she had made the promise to Tyralor to do so. A promise made and would be kept. Fate had been cruel to the half elf, but now his spirit could rest..for the truth of his death was slowly being revealed.

She moved to the next grave further down the row and she sat upon the cold ground. Another boquet of fresh wild flowers were placed upon the grave. Tears she tried hard to hold back gently slipped from her eyes. Dhugal MacPharlan would never be forgotten. The man would always hold a special place in her heart.

The loss was felt over again when memories returned. She stayed there for the better part of the day till the setting of the sun, only to rise up and slowly brush the dirt absently off her hands. She would come to visit both often to keep the memories fresh. Off went the mute elf to begin another quest she felt she must do.