“So then the bloodline comes to an end,” Ifferon said.
“It continues on,” Geldirana replied, and they looked to Affon, parading about the land as if the war was still ongoing. In some parts of Iraldas, it was.
Ifferon cast his gaze back towards the smoulder of Fort Onar. “Who knew that such a place, so glorious in years long spent, would be the resting place of the Beast? Perhaps it is fitting that he has a ruin for a grave.”
“Fort Onar is not the only ruin,” Geldirana said. “Boror is but a shadow of what it was.”
“Perhaps we can make it better … together.”
Geldirana took her time to reply. “Perhaps.”
Ifferon looked to the east. “I need to see one last ruin, to put it all behind me.”
He sailed out with Geldirana and Affon to Larksong, which was now an island not far from the coast of Boror. Though it was once overrun by the Nahamoni, Ifferon found traces of a certain warrior prince who had passed through and cleared out the island. Now it was home to larks once more.
Yet though it was now a place of beauty, there were still signs of its former life. Some of the ruins of the monastery still stood, and though it was deathly quiet, it was the kind of deathly quiet that hinted at the voices of the dead.
There were too many memories there, too many reminders of who he was, of his hiding place, and of the people who died because of his cowardice. Though he had done much to atone for this since his flight from Larksong, he felt that there was no true redemption for his actions, or his lack of action.
“Bêtalajal,” Geldirana said with a smile.
“Less-of-home,” Ifferon translated. He mirrored her smile. “I guess that’s true,” he said. “I no longer have a home.”
Geldirana looked away for a moment, to the sea in the east, where no doubt there were many other lands which were the home to many other peoples. “You do,” she said softly, and she turned to him and looked him in the eyes. “All of Boror is our home.”
He smiled, and they kissed. A thousand fears crumbled in that kiss. A million worries faded. What was and what might have been was replaced by what is and what might be. Though guilt still lived with Ifferon, there was absolution in Geldirana’s lips.
As the two sat hand in hand, Affon marched up and planted a branch into the ground. “I claim this land for the Garigút!” she cried, and she saluted. “Blood for the Garigút!”
“I guess we have more land to claim,” Ifferon said.
They left Larksong Island behind, and with it their hurts and sorrows, and though the future would bring new hurts and sorrows, it would also bring new comforts and joys. As they headed back to the mainland to rebuild the Garigút, and to rebuild Boror, they heard the larks begin their melodic song. It seemed to them like an anthem for this new age, a lay for the living, a canticle for all the Children of Telm throughout Iraldas, for all the sons and daughters of the gods everywhere in the world.
For more tales set in the world of Iraldas, read the Memory Magus series of short stories.
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The Children of Telm - The Complete Epic Fantasy Trilogy Page 78