The bard's lyre had been strummed by the deity the last time Shard visited. Though Shard wasn't quite sure if the God of the Journey standing before them was genuinely present, a mere avatar, or a manifestation, it nevertheless bestowed a special nature upon that lyre.
Still, no one intended to seize that lyre. Shard didn't mind, the witch was pondering more significant matters, and Maid Clara seemed inexplicably weary.
"Yes, true death."
Just as Shard was handing the pen and paper to the bard as promised, a voice emerged from the tent, and a dust-laden traveler lifted the curtain, appearing once more before everyone.
The deity smiled at everyone, and also regarded Shard, whose body was gradually covered with golden embers. Except for the cat, the four people respectfully greeted the deity, who then took a seat with his back to the campfire:
