Onward

The halflings gathered solemnly in the square nearest to the city wall as Roland watched the General survey their numbers. It looked like a gathering of children before the large man. The pressure of their serious gazes was unnerving, to say the least.

"Is this all of you? All who were enslaved?" The General asked Bran, who surveyed the small people from his side.

"I believe so," Bran replied, though his voice wasn't entirely confident. The General frowned, but turned back to the crowd of childlike adults.

"You are released from The Void's service. The City's barrier has broken the magic that enslaved you; you are now free. Make no mischief in Klain and no harm will come to you." It had taken some effort to convince the rest of the Council to grant amnesty, but Roland felt it was the right thing to do.

They were slaves, not followers, and did not deserve punishment for orders they had been forced via magic to obey.

Still, he wasn't sure exactly what would be unleashed on the world by freeing these people.

Mayra had expressed some caution over trusting them, and even now the city gardeners were planning hedgerows from the remaining seeds of the Halfling-repellant flowers.

He was grateful the most gruesome work of the battle cleanup was nearing completion; the flood had washed away most of the dead and many of the injured, which made for an arduous task of search and rescue. Once the river left Klain, it veered South towards the sea, a great distance for the soldiers to search.

A messenger had been dispatched to the Sea People of the coast, with a missive begging for aid in retrieving any dead that washed to the mouth of the river where it met the sea. The Council doubted whether they would be willing to help after Lysander broke the treaty with them so many years ago, but the request was issued just the same.

The peace between Klain and Rhone was uneasy; rumors and mistruths spread about the motivations for the attack and the fault involved, in addition to the personal grudges held by relatives of the departed.

Gladys was one of the few to find closure; her time caring for Victoria during the siege had been a balm to her heart, and her friendship with Mrs. Sherman was instrumental in pulling her from a spiral of depression. Though her son was gone, she saw that life could still be worth living.

Duncan was not trusted by the Council at large, though the General had come to respect him. It was decided that Roland, who was both Prince of Rhone and a loyal soldier of Klain, should act as ambassador between the two nations.

He had little say in the matter, as the order came from both his father/king and his government/employer. As one who had always despised bureaucracy, to be tied up in it now was not his ideal.

Still, peace between the nations had been his goal all along, and if his work had to continue in this way, so be it. He would find a way to be happy in this role, with Serafina by his side.

The townspeople flooded out of Klain and back to their homes, and the women, children, and laborers of Rhone arrived with their former captives to replace them. Roland watched the people with complex emotions warring in his eyes.

The tension between the people was difficult to overstate. The fact that the captives had been let out of the Darkness before the battle and freed, in tandem with Titania's defeat helped breed a small amount of good will. That small amount was vastly overshadowed by the deaths of the men in battle. A widow's grief is a difficult thing to overcome.

The blending of the kingdoms would be an arduous task fraught with all manner of pitfalls. Destroying a life takes only a moment. Rebuilding one can take a lifetime. Rebuilding a kingdom of lives can take generations.

There were many injured yet to heal. Some wounds would fester and rot, some would heal and become whole. Some men would be found, others would remain lost forever. With all sorrows, there are always helpers, healers, and hope at the end, if one lives long enough to see them.

Roland sighed, knowing it was unlikely he would live long enough to see the completion of the work. Even if he were to grow into an old man, such deep resentments were unlikely to resolve by such a time.

Finn bolstered his hope for the future. She called him the bridge between the kingdoms, a title echoed by both the Council and his father King Duncan. The coronation of his father had been brief and without much ceremony, in light of the circumstances.

After all, he had surrendered unconditionally to Klain. If the Council had truly pressed the issue, they could have stripped him of his authority and annexed the Rhone people entirely. It mattered little if he were to be a king without subjects to look after.

It took several meetings and much negotiation, and it was eventually decided that Rhone and Klain would be allies against the Darkness, with the governments functioning in cooperation. Both kingdoms thought it unlikely that the Void would give up its war simply because it was banished.

It had found a foothold in their world before, and could likely do so again. Allies against the Darkness were more important than feuds amongst nations. Roland's mouth turned up in a half-smile. A common enemy could unite most anyone, if it were terrifying enough.

Maybe there was hope for reconciliation after all.

___________

Quilina played by herself, as she often did. The sea roared in the distance, and she wondered why it sounded angry today. There must be some far-off storm enraging the waves and the depths.

She had never been out upon the sea. Though her village was close to its shores, they were not of the Sea People and were not quite welcome in their midst. Occasionally stilted trading would occur, crops or animals for fish, but they weren't exactly friendly.

She loved to sneak off and watch the ships when they came near enough to see. It would terrify her to see one closer, but far away they were beautiful. She hoped they were all right today while the sea raged.

She continued building a house out of sticks for her doll to play in. Mama wouldn't expect her back before supper, so she had plenty of time for her games. As she stood to retrieve more to reinforce the roof, a small sound caught her attention.

"Hello?" She asked, looking around for a bird or other creature who might have caused it. "Is something there?"

"Hello," A little boy who looked about her own age stepped out from the shadows.

"Oh!" Quilina exclaimed, "Are you one of the Sea People?" She was confident she knew all the other children in the area who weren't one of them. There weren't many.

"No," The boy answered, "I'm not one of them."

Quilina blinked at him in confusion and offered a tentative smile. "I'm Quilina. Where are you from?"

"Far away." He did not smile back.

"What made you come here? Where is your family?" She looked around him but saw no one.

"I'm alone." He said stoically.

"Well, I'll be your friend." Quilina offered. "Everyone needs friends. What's your name?"

He studied her in silence before answering. "Roy."

"Well, Roy, if you're from far away, then you won't know this place very well. That way is more forest," She pointed Northwest, "and behind me is the sea and a river. Do you hear it back there? It sounds grumpy today. I'm not sure why."

"Because of the war." Roy answered, frowning.

"What's a war?" Quilina tilted her head curiously.

"Nevermind." Roy said. "I have to go now. I'll come back another time."

"Wait! Where are you going if you don't have family or friends?" The little girl was anxious that he not be left to fend for himself. A kid on his own was unlikely to last long in the wilderness. Her family would probably take him in if he had nowhere to stay.

"I'll tell you another time, maybe." He said cryptically, the same joyless expression on his face.

Suddenly, he was gone.

"Roy? ROY?" Quilina called. "Where did you go?"

She rubbed her eyes and looked around again. Had she imagined the whole thing? Mama often chastised her for having an overactive imagination. Perhaps it had gotten away from her as she played. Or maybe she'd fallen asleep and dreamt the whole interaction.

Roy had promised to come back. If he were just pretend, he couldn't keep the promise. Time would tell her if he were real, and where he had gone. It was better not to bother Mama or Papa about it until then.

What a very odd afternoon. In what she imagined was a very adult thing to do, she brushed the whole thing off and determined not to worry about it.