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Chapter 13 - Branch Story: The Waiting Never Stopped

The Waiting Never Stopped

Featuring the character 'Justicar' of Chapter 15, this story explores some of the workings of the Slane Theocracy and how they create the fanatical devotion in their people and what drives them to be as they are. 

- O -

"What will we name him?" Janila asked her husband in an exhausted voice, holding her newborn son.

"Justicar." He said, "For he will bring the justice of the gods to the whole world when he is a man."

"Justicar..." She said, stroking his small face, "Welcome to the Slane Theocracy, I'm your mother, Janila, and this is your father, Erikur."

The newborns squalled as infants do, and she brought him to the breast to nurse, and Janila lay back and relaxed, looking up at the thatched roof of her village hut. "Why don't you go tell everyone I'm alright?" She said to her husband, "This may take a while." She said with wry humor, and Erikur gave out a rare laugh as he went out to inform the little village of their newest member.

In the little outlying village of the Slane Theocracy, life to most would have seemed like it was in every other nation ruled by humans, the villagers had to farm, they had to tend the crops, they had to chop wood and cook food, they had a plethora of activities to see to that were like those of any other gathering of people, however there were many things that also set their village apart from all others. Among those things was a lack of fear. The villagers went to the forest without worrying that a monster would emerge, because the scriptures of the Slane Theocracy set about hunting down such beasts with zeal. This is not to say such creatures never appeared, but they were rare.

It was when Justicar was a child of six that he first understood that monsters were even real things, when a villager ran screaming out of the woods, and an undead face bearing the scraps of flesh followed after, and the word 'fireball' was uttered, and young Justicar saw the villager die screaming in the flames as they struck him. The undead pointed his finger next at the little green-eyed boy, and Justicar stood frozen, transfixed, the undead being hovered near, as if waiting for the boy to run so he could burn him, but he didn't move, and the undead gave pause, as if he thought better of setting him aflame.

"Boooy...go to your village, tell them that they belong to me, Ichan the Elder Lich, and if they do not sate me with offerings in three days, I will emerge from the wood and burn them all. Bring your gifts here, or perish one and all." He pointed his ragged finger at a place on the ground and set the grass on fire, burning a large bare patch, and then floating off into the woods.

Justicar was snapped out of his spell and ran as fast as his legs could carry him, he told his parents everything, who told the mayor, who sent a message to the temple, and within two days Justicar saw them, a group of six, in pure white armor, carrying swords, wands, and axes, armor gleaming and eyes hard and sharp, they presented themselves to the village, and said, "Where is the boy who carried the message?"

"He is here." Erikur said, touching his son on the shoulder. "It's alright, son, these are the scriptures, come to save us from that monster." Justicar felt nervous, and a woman stepped up from the group and knelt in front of him, her icy blue eyes piercing his own as if they looked through him, and he couldn't help but stare back in awe.

"He's clean." She said. "He's not possessed or under any spells, just the wrong place at the wrong time. Now, lad, take us to where the lich is said to be."

Justicar could only nod, and he led them to the edge of the woods. He pointed to the brown patch. "Thank you, boy, now go, the Sunlight Scripture will handle things from here." Justicar didn't say a word as he rushed away, but he did not go perhaps as far as they wanted, he only hid nearby and watched as they drew out swords, axes, and wands. Ichan emerged from the woods not long after.

"You are no offerings...but you will doooo..." It said in its raspy voice.

Before it could even finish raising its hand to point, the scriptures were in motion, swords and axes, spells of ice and fire, wind and lightning, flashed as the Elder Lich fought the human scriptures, Justicar felt as if he was watching a battle of gods and heroes, his green eyes were wide with awe as he alone watched the encounter play out, and gradually the Elder Lich found itself being outmatched and overwhelmed, until an ax bit into it to hard and it fell to the ground, and before it could scream, a voice shouted 'Sacred hammer!' and a white hammer smashed down and crushed its skull into many small pieces.

Justicar cheered, and when the scriptures passed through the village and informed the people of their completed mission, those cheers were shared by others. They didn't linger, despite the invitation by the mayor, "I'm sorry, but we can't, we've got another village to see, but farewell." The woman said, and they rode off away from the village, and etched into the lifelong memory of Justicar.

That night at evening services, Justicar was especially attentive, and this was the second feature of the Slane Theocracy that distinguished them from others, they were steeped in faith, the priest was more important than the mayor in the minds of the people, and for young Justicar this meant even more, as he had the power to summon heroes to save the people.

"Praise to the gods, the saviors of humanity, praise to the Theocracy, who will make the chosen race of the gods supreme, though our faith be tested, it remains strong, the monsters beyond are but dust to be blown away, and we their instruments, will see their bodies to the only use they have, to make fertile the fields we farm!" The priestly services were party to Justicar's life from his first days, but it was not until after he witnessed the scriptures slay a monster that he truly listened.

That evening, as he sat with his parents at dinner, he asked his father, 'Are there many monsters out there in the world?"

"Yes." Erikur said darkly, "Many, all humanity is threatened, the undead, demihumans, heteromorphs, and even people who have strayed from the gods' path, all threaten our annihilation." He said, and Justicar shook with fear.

"Dear," Janila said, reaching out to touch his hand, "You'll frighten him."

Justicar was indeed frightened, but his father set down his bread and looked his son in his eyes, "Good. Fear drives action, and he needs to understand the state of the world. Only the Theocracy truly protects humanity, only humanity is chosen by the gods, only the will to act as the gods wish gives us their favor, and that is the only way to ensure our future. Are you frightened, Justicar?" He asked firmly.

Little Justicar nodded swiftly, and tears welled in his eyes.

"Are you frightened of the monsters out there, like that elder lich?" He asked further.

"Y-Yes..." Justicar said, moving close to his mother, seeking her comforting embrace, which she provided warmly, pulling him closer.

"Then never forget, and use your fear to grow stronger so that you don't need to fear. Never forget what is out there, waiting to slay us all, never fail the tests of the gods, devote yourself to them, serve them, serve the Slane Theocracy, and never forget that you are superior to all those outside our race, that is why they will destroy you if you can, because they hate that you are better than they, they hate that the gods love you and not them, they hate that we are the best and the strongest, never forget their hatred, and never forget that your fear may become a path to the power you need to bring the justice of the gods down on their heads, them and all those who conspire with them."

Justicar nodded rapidly, and slept fitfully that night, the next day he was enrolled in the children's education program for the village, he was taught the songs and lessons and prayers of the gods, he was taught to embrace them as his saviors, he was taught their message of human supremacy and the danger of demihumans, over and over, day after day, when he was not farming in the field or working for the village, he devoted himself to learning the will of the gods through the village priest, and when he was anointed as a man, he took his oath of faithfulness to the temples with a zeal that made his parents proud. When a goblin tribe was spotted in the forest, Justicar was among the village volunteers who served as scouts for the company of soldiers to hunt them down. That was his first taste of combat.

He almost missed them, and they almost missed him, his piercing green eyes caught sight of the green skin motion just in time, and he wouldn't have at all, had it not been fall and the leaves turned brown and orange, but now it stood out, and he shouted just as the goblin saw him in turn, the goblin moved faster, it threw a spear through the trees, and barely missed penetrating is arm, as it was, it left a bleeding cut on his bicep, the other goblins saw, and with the alarm raised their gibbering voices charged at the human, their terrifying faces brought back memories of the elder lich, but Justicar was no longer a little boy, he raised up his own spear and tried to fight back, he stabbed one in the gut before another struck him in the face with the pommel of a blade, blood gushed out and he fell on his back, looking up at the goblin as the sword was spun to put the point at his neck, he cried out in fear and pain as he desperately tried to raise his spear to stop the threat to his life, when an arrow pierced the goblin's eye and dropped him on his back clawing at the arrow in pain, his sword fell from his hands and dropped on to Justicar's calf, cutting deep as it went in, but the fight was short and brutal after that, with the goblins outnumbered, most of them were killed, but two adults and a number of goblin young were captured, including the ones that had nearly killed young Justicar. They were bound and dragged to the village, and Justicar was assisted by several soldiers of the Theocracy as he limped back home.

Cheers greeted Justicar, the fighters, and the villagers who had served as scouts, and a priest healed the young man as the goblins were bound to a stake in the center of the village.

An impromptu festival was organized, and Justicar, as the wounded man, was treated as a hero.

"Well done, young man, it might have been much harder to clear them out if you hadn't caught sight of them." A large barrel-chested soldier said, clapping him on the shoulder, prompting the green-eyed Justicar to wince a little.

"Thanks, but I'd have been dead if it weren't for you all. Fucking demihumans." He said and spat at the goblin, who was crying out in pain with the arrow still in his eye. The goblin young looked frightened, even pitiful in Justicar's eyes.

"Yeah, they'd kill us all if they got the chance. They deserve our hate, they have only two uses: slaves to our superior race, or fertilizer for our fields." The soldier said, sending spit of his own at the other goblin, who tried to get at him, tugging at the rope that bound him. The young looked terrified. "What about the young ones?" Justicar asked.

"What does a young monster grow up into?" A soldier asked.

"A grown-up monster," Justicar said, repeating the lesson of the priest that he had memorized by heart.

"As nits make lice and sheep make sheep and wolves make wolves, demihuman animals grow up into demihuman animals, release them now, and they will destroy you when they grow." He said in perfect repetition of his childhood lessons.

"Well, you're the hero of all this." The commander said to the young man, "Seems fitting you should decide what to do with them. Want to spare them?"

"Easy choice." Justicar said, confident in the holiness with which he had been reared, and he took up a rock and threw it at the goblins. The goblins shrank away from his hateful gaze, and with his prompting, more rocks were taken up. The villagers and Justicar laughed and smiled, "Come after us, will you! Fucking demihumans! Fucking die! We're the chosen of the gods, this is what you get for striking your betters!" Rock after rock was thrown at the bound demihumans, who screamed as their teeth were knocked out, their noses broken, and bones began to break, the priests urged it on, praising the gods as the people threw stones, and the demihumans gradually stopped trying to protect themselves the blows against their bodies were many, and they were turned into a bloody pulp before they finally embraced the blessing of death. For good measure, Justicar gave their corpses a sound kick to their faces. When one of the young stirred slightly, Justicar stomped on it till he was sure it would never move again.

"Well done, son." Erikur and Janila said in unison. "You protected the village, humanity, and served the Theocracy, that is what all people should do." They embraced their son warmly, "But try not to get hurt next time, you had me so worried when I saw you limping back." Janila said with motherly concern, sparing a hateful glare for the beaten corpses of the goblins.

"I'll be careful next time." Justicar said, "I promise, Mom and Dad."

It was not long after that, that war broke out with the elves, word spread of how the elven king had kidnapped a member of the Theocracy and violated her, and Justicar's outrage at these inferior beings burned bright, he imagined what such monsters would do to his own mother if they got the chance, and he hated them all the more for what he was certain was in all of them, the jealousy of the inferior for the superior, and then a military officer came to the village.

"All those who volunteer will not only see their family receive a stipend, but they will also see priority in the distribution of elven slaves in farm or industrial labor." He said to the assembled village.

"I volunteer!" The young Justicar said loudly. He was the first, but not the last, of the village to speak up, several other young men and women were quick to offer themselves to the service of the theocracy, and Justicar went straight to the front, where he quickly gained a reputation for bravery and ruthlessness. When elves were captured, he was quick to offer his service in breaking them, taking up the whip until elf after elf fell to the ground and begged to be a slave just so the pain would stop.

Justicar's hatred and contempt for these 'almost humans' only grew with his experience, and he volunteered to serve alongside the temple priest who was responsible for their sale, and quickly showed that he had a keen mind for the scriptures and gradually learned to serve the gods in that capacity. His skill at breaking them became quite well known, and when the first full town was captured and surrendered to the Theocracy, he was brought in as an expert.

The little town was taken almost without a fight, though a few elves lay dead along the walls. It was clear the place had been abandoned quickly, with the result that many civilian elves and families were taken.

He looked over the town, which was not at all impressive, but he didn't care much for the buildings, he was more interested in the captives. They had been chained together and put to their knees under the watchful eyes of soldiers, he walked in front of them, looking at their faces, they seemed almost human, fear etched on them as they saw his unforgiving green eyes, but what he saw most was their ears, their pointed ears that marked them as an inferior race, the ears reminded him of the goblins he'd encountered before, and in a moment of inspiration, he went over to an elf that didn't have the same expression of terror, took out his knife, grabbed the elf by its ear, twisted, and then cut the tip off first the left, then the right ear, the male's screams were loud, and he thrashed in futility, trying to clutch the injury but unable to do so the way he was bound.

Justicar stepped back and held up the tips of the ears for all the elves and human guards to see.

He threw the tips of the ears contemptuously into the gathered crowd of prisoners, prompting shrieks to come out anew, that was the desired response.

"Guards, animals don't need clothes, deprive these beasts of their coverings. Then do as I have done and remove the tips of every one of these animals' ears."

It was a scene of nightmares as elves wiggled and thrashed and struggled, their cries of refusal and denial and their pleading for the humans to stop, went unheeded, simple cloth was turned to rags as the elves had clothing cut off and torn away and thrown into a pile, then the blood flowed as the guards severed the tips of their captive's ears.

Wails of pain filled the air as young and old pleaded for mercy that would not come. Then one by one they were disconnected from chains, brought out in front, and suspended by their wrists, and Justicar whipped each of the hated elves until they fell and begged to serve to end the pain. When it came to the female elves, the humiliation was greater. He told them to beg to be concubines and prostitutes, he made them beg long and loud for that end, much to the laughter of the Theocracy's soldiers.

Their husbands thrashed in their chains despite the pain, and screamed out desperate threats that they would never be able to carry out as they witnessed the violations and humiliations their females were subjected to, and Justicar felt nothing but satisfaction. "As your king did to our own, so will we do to yours." Justicar said, and that night saw the desperate wailing and countless tears of broken elvish women and the desperate cries of the elven males who wished to save them. It changed the nature of the war, which had gone from retaliatory to one of profit. The sale of elven slaves into farmlands and brothels became the goal, and Justicar was given ample credit for his innovations in breaking prisoners.

He was rewarded with the granting of his fondest wish, to be allowed to study to become a priest at the Capitol, to learn to serve the gods directly.

He arrived at the seminary early in the morning, and looked up at the towering walls and buildings of the center of the Slane Theocracy, and felt certain in his heart of hearts that humanity truly was the chosen of the gods, how else could they have achieved such greatness, if not for that blessing? By this time rumors had circulated about the founding of an evil kingdom ruled by the undead and the suffering of the people there, however he had no time for rumors, he had only to focus on his studies, which centered on the constant reinforcement of the doctrine of human supremacy and the need for humans to stay united in family, in village, town, city, nation, and race, day after day he studied the reasoning of the acolytes of the past and was taught history and a degree of magic that allowed him to render help to humans.

In his second year he heard of the Holy Kingdom's struggle against Jaldabaoth, but he had little time for foreign news as his work continued apace, though he was fearful when he heard of Jaldabaoth, he was horrified when he learned that the undead king was taking a role in fighting for the humans there, and when he raised his hand in class, he asked his teacher why this was happening.

"The gods are testing all of us, but they test the Holy Kingdom more because they lack faith, that is why Jaldabaoth struck there instead of here, because they are the faithless sorts who consort with the undead to save their transitory lives, they are punished for their lack of faith and devotion, while we are rewarded with power and wealth for our piety." He said, and a naked female elf with broken, downcast eyes brought a tray with a cup of tea on it close to him, he took it, took a sip, and put it back on the tray. "By our faith in the gods, we will triumph over all others. Isn't that right, slave?" He said with venomous contempt to the broken female.

She nodded in short, fearful, quick nods. "Say it." He said.

"Y-Yes, master." She whispered.

"Louder." He said.

"Yessirhumansarethesuperiorracechosenbythegodssir!' she screamed out in terror, so that every seminary student heard.

"Good." He said, and backhanded her so that she fell to the floor, dropping the tray and shattering the cup. "Now clean that up and get out." He said.

"Never forget the difference, we have not forgotten our power, but the Holy Roble Kingdom did, that is why that animal is down there." He said and put his foot on her back, pushing her down hard and prompting a cry, before he stood on top of her, ignoring her squeals of pain, "and the Holy Kingdom struggles to survive."

Thus was the doctrine of the Slane Theocracy pushed hard into the minds of the priests, and the doctrine of human superiority went unquestioned, every failure of humanity was attributed to a failure of faith in following the gods, every success and triumph to following their will, and the already devoted Justicar was surrounded by the constant confirmation of the rightness of his cause, and he graduated near the top of his class, and was rewarded with a chance to return to his home village.

It was a glorious homecoming for him, he'd written back and forth to his parents over his time away, and learned that they were now the prosperous owners of several elven slaves that tended the farm, which they had expanded accordingly with the wealth drawn from the free labor of the new slave class, several other families had similarly prospered, and Justicar was eager to see how things had changed.

The first thing he saw was that the walls had expanded and were now made of stone instead of wood. Obviously, his village had grown in importance to theocracy as a food production center and merited more protection, there were even official guards on the walls overlooking the village and looking out over the fields where the slaves worked.

The mayor was the first to greet him. "Justicar, my boy, it's so good to see you!" he said and embraced the young man, and Justicar returned the warm embrace of his elder. "You've grown very strong and built quite a reputation, we're all so proud of you." He said with a smile that Justicar happily matched.

"Thank you, mayor, I was glad to serve, and I see it has reaped wonderful rewards for our home." Justicar said happily.

"Yes very much so, your parents are now very well off, and the Theocracy has provided them first pick of the slaves as a reward for your innovations in elf breaking, they've moved to a larger home, why its practically an estate, and rumor has it that the Theocracy is even considering giving a noble title to your house to match your family contributions. Things couldn't be better." He said as he took Justicar by the arm and walked him through the village...that had now clearly become closer to a full town, the streets had gone from dirt to stone, and the people were better dressed. Occasionally, he saw an elf slave with severed ear tips, collar, and chains walk past, following after a human owner, but there was nothing remarkable about that.

He passed by a building he didn't recognize, but it had several elven females secured outside, and with eyes whose only sign of life in them was fear, they looked around for men and called out to them to come inside for recreation. "Ahh, so it's now large enough to have a brothel, is it?" He asked the mayor.

"Yes, your father's idea. He owns the place. Apparently, your letter home after you punished that first town of elves prompted him to think of it, and he bought several female elves and set the place up. Your mother handles the acquisitions now, and he just handles the farming side of your family business.

"Clearly, they're doing very well. I mean, their letters home talked about some of these things, but I guess they wanted to surprise me with just how well it was going." Justicar said, prompting an acknowledging laugh from the mayor.

"Yes, they wanted to surprise you before you got your first assignment, ah, we're almost there, see that large house up ahead on the right?" The mayor pointed to a two-story home, and Justicar whistled, impressed. "Well, it worked, I am surprised, he smiled and slapped the mayor on the back, "Thank you for the escort, but now it is my turn to surprise them."

Justicar was just about to knock on the door when it opened, and he found himself face to face with his mother. "Justicar!" Janila said and hugged him fiercely. "So good of you to come home! Erikur! Erikur! Justicar has come home to us!" That was when Justicar saw his father, older looking, not quite as strong looking as he, no longer working the field himself, but still very clearly himself. "My boy, so good to have you home again!" Erikur said and came and embraced his son.

"It's good to see you both." Justicar said, happily embracing his family, "I wish I could stay longer, but I have only a few days. I've got an assignment, and it is going to take me far away."

"Come, sit, tell us about it." Janila said with a smile and gestured towards a large table. She turned her head and shouted, "Bitch! Bitch get in here and prepare something for my son!" His mother's voice was fierce and demanding in a way Justicar had never heard, but he quickly understood when an elf woman wearing nothing but a collar and chains fearfully scurried in, "Yes, mistress.' She said with downcast eyes, not even looking at Justicar before rushing into the kitchen.

"You named it bitch?" Justicar said.

"Yes, took it out of the brothel to take care of the house, it's called bitch because it mouthed off to a customer, that was what he called her before he beat her, so it seemed appropriate as a name." His mother said casually.

That prompted the trio to laugh, and they sat down and ate and drank, enjoying the ruin as Bitch came and went from the kitchen, offering no comment or resistance when she was struck to get her attention. "You've broken it well." Justicar said.

"It was easy, watch." Erikur said.

"Bitch, get in here." He shouted, and she came running in.

"Brothel." He said, looking her in the eyes.

She immediately started sobbing, the remnants of her ears twitched in terror, and she tried to beg through her tears as she fell to her knees and hugged herself.

"Alright, but move faster next time." Erikur said in an almost magnanimous voice.

She swiftly scurried away.

"Impressive." Justicar said.

"Now, tell us about your first assignment." Erikur said.

"I'm going into the Holy Kingdom." He said.

They looked confused.

"Why so far, don't they have their own priests?" Janila said, "I don't want my son to be so far from me. Couldn't they give you an assignment closer to home?" She asked.

"Well yes mother," Justicar said, "But after Jaldabaoth fell, well things changed, there is a lot of heresy there so I'm going on a more...quiet assignment, we're cooperating with the priests of the Holy Kingdom due to their decreased numbers, and we're going to root out a heresy known as 'Black Justice', a group of undead worshiping humans, I know, its horrifying to think of, but that is how low they've fallen, so I have to do this for the gods and for all mankind." He said piously.

Erikur and Janila reached out and took his hand across the table. They shared a common grip, and Erikur spoke, "We're so proud of you, son, you'll do great things, punish those heretics, make them suffer, and make the Holy Kingdom great again."

"I will, mom, I will, dad." He said, "But at least I have a few days first, so let's have fun like old times."

The next few days were enjoyable for Justicar, but they passed quickly, and he tearfully parted from his mother and father and mounted a horse they provided to him. "Come back safe, son. And remember, we love you." His parents said.

"I know, I love you too, and don't worry, I'll see you both when I get back, and then we'll have an amazing feast, and I'll tell you all about how we've made the Holy Kingdom Holy again." Justicar said and waved farewell to them as he rode away.

...One year later...

Justicar looked at the place where the heretics' bodies had been burned. The fire had died down days ago, but he loved coming here and remembering the memorial to his victory. Getting the villagers behind him had been almost too easy, and the burning of the heretics' corpses and their subsequent desecration had been illustrative. Truly, the gods favored his efforts. The cool night air was comforting on his skin as he paced the ground, losing himself in his thoughts. If he had success like this in every village and town, the Black Justice heretics would be wiped out in a year or two, fierce fighters or not, they were but dust to the gods.

He grinned. He looked forward to finishing his letter to his parents and telling them of his accomplishments, he was sure they'd be proud.

He took a deep breath as he savored the sweet memory of victory and of home. This was only the latest step in a long and prosperous career.

"With enough successes like these, one day I may guide the theocracy as a cardinal, and see to the end of all those jealous subhumans that would taint the blessings of the six gods." He said softly to himself, and indulged in a moment of fantasy, imagining himself taking the oath and entering the sacred chamber where the leaders of the theocracy guided humanity on its path to the inevitable inheritance of the world.

"No, you won't." A voice said from behind him, and as he turned to inquire, he saw a flash of black reflecting the pale light of the moon, and a flash of steel, and then he found himself looking up and his head flying back, it took a moment for him to realize that his head was no longer attached to his body, and he felt the pain of his face rolling over in the dirt. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to speak, but no sound came out. He blinked desperately, and he realized who had killed him. He knew the uniform of a Black Justice fighter from his briefings. He wanted to curse the man.

"You didn't think we'd ignore what you did, did you?" The fighter said as he held up Justicar's living head by his hair.

He was still living as he watched the fighter drag his body and prop it against the gate, leaving a note pinned to the unmoving chest.

The fighter held Justicar's head up one more time, this time in both hands, looking down at him, "You came for us, but you forgot that we could come for you. All of you will fall, you can be sure of that. But I need one more thing besides your life." The fighter said, and adjusted his grip to pull out a knife, and cut the eyes out of Justicar's head, had he been able to, he would have screamed, but as it was, his mouth could only open in silent agony and horror as he was left without body or eyes, wondering how much longer he would have to wait for death to come.

He felt himself falling, and realized his head was being dropped, just as he hit the ground, he heard something open and closed and figured it must have been his eyes being stored somewhere, then felt his hair being grabbed as he was picked up again, and the back of the wooden gate against his skull, he felt a sword at his lips, and felt the steel pushed in, he wanted desperately to scream, but then it pierced the rest of the way through, and he knew no more.

...Back at his home village, three months later...

"Erikur, why do you suppose Justicar hasn't written home lately?" Janila asked.

Erikur shrugged, "Well, it's supposed to be somewhat covert, so he probably can't, there's nothing to worry about, don't fret about it." He said and hugged his wife.

"I know, I know, but I'm his mother, it's my job to worry." She said with a soft smile, returning his hug.

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure any day now, we'll see him riding up on his horse as if he'd never left." Erikur said, sharing her smile.

"Yes, any day now." Janila said, giving a side glance at the closed door.

"Any day now. Just you wait." Erikur said confidently.

And the waiting never stopped, until the end of their days.

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