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Ipid could only make out the barest shadows of the burnt out smithy in the distance. The sun was down. It was dark despite a rising full moon and the light of a billion stars. He had forgotten how many stars there were in the sky, had not even bothered to look for years. He was just sitting now, trying to gather the energy to return, to face his son and the villagers. It seemed a daunting undertaking.
“I think he wants to be alone,” Elton said from somewhere behind him.
Ipid turned and looked back toward the road. Elton was a huge black shadow framed by the light grey of the house behind him. Standing next to him was a figure nearly as tall as the Morg but only half of Elton’s girth. He leaned on the Morg in a familiar way and seemed to sway slightly even with that support. “Let him come,” Ipid said into the darkness. “I could use some company.”
“So did I the night before I was joined, and so did you.”
“Yes, sir,” Elton acknowledge, but he did not let Dasen go immediately. His voice turned low, his words for Dasen alone. Ipid could almost see the warning on his face. Dasen nodded.
Ipid turned back to the ruins. “Here he is, Kira. Please help him. Guide him the way you used to guide me.”
“Please, Dasen,” Ipid just barely managed. “Please, stop. I . . . That’s enough. Just sit with me for a while.”
“Sure.” And though he swayed slightly, Dasen sat, shoulder touching his father’s.
When he had thought through everything Dasen had said, considered the terrible truth of it and recovered enough of his composure to speak, he broke the silence. “I am glad you came here tonight. Your mother would have been proud of you.”
Eventually, Ipid found the strength to stand. Dasen joined him, and they walked silently back past the flickering windows to the main street. But as they left, Ipid was sure he saw a shape moving in the trees beyond the ruins, that he heard another snuffle, a pant, a muffled cry. He looked toward the trees and silently wished Tethina goodnight.
Chapter 7