Chapter 146: Somme, a Family Man
Somme gripped his cup so tightly that his hand began to tremble. For a moment, Rhodes was afraid it would shatter. But it didn't. His grip loosened, and he said, "I suspected it, when I went to see him last year. The stubborn fool, he never stopped working. He'd collapse from exhaustion, but he'd still be doing paperwork in bed. Never gave himself a moment's rest."
Rhodes said nothing, just looked at his old friend.
Other than Serie, Somme was the only one left. But he, too, would one day face the same fate as Norne, and then it would just be him and her. But that day was still a long way off.
Forty years was not a short time, even for a dwarf. Somme had changed. He had a beard now, and he carried himself with a new maturity. But with him and Serie, he was the same as he had always been, the young dwarven boy they had fought alongside so long ago. Perhaps they were the only ones who could bring out that side of him.
"Did Norne... did he mention Eirik?" he asked, his voice now a little strained.
"He did," Rhodes nodded. "And he asked me to end his suffering, to let him rest in peace, as a warrior."
His breathing grew heavy. He put down his cup and leaned forward, his hands on his knees, his arm muscles taut. After a long moment, he let out a deep breath. "That fool... so he finally made his choice."
"Yes. There was no other way." Perhaps a small part of Eirik was still in there, but it was too late now.
"And did you... did you agree?" he asked, looking up at him.
"I did," his voice was soft, but it held a strength that could not be denied.
He stared at him for a long, long time, and then he said, "Good. I'm sure you will be the one to give him his peace."
"Will you come with us?" Rhodes asked. "To say goodbye to our old friend."
"No. I... forgive me, Rhodes. This time... I cannot go with you."
Rhodes raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, and waited for him to continue.
"Just like Norne," his voice was so low it was almost a whisper, "I can't bring myself to do it. And..."
He stood and walked over to a small cabinet by the fireplace. From inside, he took out a painting. It had been done not long ago, by a traveling artist from another race. Everyone had been saying that a new king should have a proper portrait. In the painting, he was not alone. Beside him was a dwarven woman, and in her arms, a dwarven baby.
"This is my wife and my son," he said, his voice full of a gentle warmth. "The little one will be one year old soon." He gently traced the baby's face in the painting. "And so, I cannot go with you. I am sorry."
The once-fierce, fearless dwarven warrior was now a family man, and with that, came a new kind of chain, a new kind of restraint. But it was a good kind of chain.
Rhodes looked at the painting and smiled. "Congratulations, Somme. I am truly happy for you. You now have someone to protect. That is more important than anything else."
Serie also gave a slight nod. "You have made a wise choice. You do not need to feel guilty."
In truth, she, too, had no intention of going. Of their old party, only he would be the one to see their old friend off.
Somme put the painting back and turned to him. "Rhodes, I may not be able to go with you, but the Dwarven Kingdom will always be at your side. Whatever you need, just ask," he said, and pounded his chest.
"There's no need," he said with a smile. "I'm already prepared." He had only asked him to come along as a courtesy, to say a final farewell. He wouldn't have actually had him fight. But now that he had a family... it was best to keep him out of danger.
"Is that so? Good. But are you sure you don't want some new equipment? We've just recently rediscovered a lost technique... a kind of an exploding, light-emitting sphere."
"The kind Eirik used to use?" He remembered it well. The flash-bangs that had been so useful against the goddess.
"Yes, that's it! It's a powerful tool, one that even a god had to be wary of."
"She was just blinded by the light."
For the next while, Somme enthusiastically showed him the latest creations of the dwarven smiths, trying to convince him to take something. He refused most of it, but in the end, he did accept a small bag of specially-made mana recovery potions. An enhanced version, he had said, though with a much more bitter taste. At the other end of the room, the elven miss felt a sudden, inexplicable chill.
She felt it again when he took the bag with a smile. A feeling of pure, unadulterated malice.
He had intended to leave right after their conversation, but Somme had insisted on throwing them a grand farewell banquet.
At the feast, he was a one-man army, drinking every other dwarf under the table. But only Rhodes knew his secret. He was just drinking juice. And to make it even more convincing, he had even had a special, two-chambered flask made.
He had not spoken of Norne, or of Eirik, again. He had just clapped him on the shoulder, and had wished him a safe journey.
Later that night, after the banquet was over, he had personally shown them to their rooms.
In the shadows of the hallway, the soon-to-be-king had suddenly taken his arm, and his voice had been solemn. "Rhodes... if... and this is a big if... if a part of Eirik is still in there... could you give him a message for me?"
"Of course."
"Tell him... that I will never forget our adventures together. And that he was the bravest warrior I have ever known."
He had nodded and had committed the words to memory.
The next morning, they left, without a word to anyone. They had thought no one had seen them, but on the city walls, a lone figure stood, watching their retreating forms.
"Safe travels, my friends," the future dwarven king whispered.
(End of chapter)
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