Fionn's Winter
Fionn's Winter : A tale from the downtime
Winter comes every year, even to the Court of Summer.
The harsh winds battering his worn face, Fionn Swiftbraid pulled up his hood as he made his way through the snow. Though far from pleasant, the cold was nothing compared to the breath of an Ancient White Dragon. As he ruminated on how much his circumstances had changed, his axe sliced through the air with practised precision, and the log he had struck shattered into several pieces.
He found his mind wandering often in recent days – fixating often on the gaping maw beneath Glendara. The world hadn’t ended, so he assumed his old acquaintances had managed to close the Well, but he couldn’t help but to wonder – at what cost? He had chosen his own desires against the survival of the world. Of course, it was a selfish choice, and unlike some of the others, he couldn’t blame Fate for his actions. His decisions were his own.
He glanced over his shoulder as he fumbled with the recently installed lock on the door, the white blanket threatening to swallow all the progress he had managed to make over these past few months. Clearly the Orb Walkers had nary a thought for the Fort and the village that Rathir hoped would grow around it, but there was no reason Fionn couldn’t keep their promise in their stead. Especially if it meant keeping his promise to his family as well.
As he locked the door behind him, he saw Alexia rushing towards him, her straw-like hair in as chaotic a state as the storm he’d left outside. Clumsily she brushed off what white crystals she could see off his damp cloak, all the time regaling him with ideas of what they could accomplish in the year ahead. He couldn’t help but chuckle dryly to himself – from hired mercenary to protector, even Lord of a small hamlet. He took solace in the fact that even with the selfishness of his choice, he was helping people like him start over and make a better life for themselves and their families.
The embers of the fire slowly began to dwindle as the clock ticked towards midnight. Chianul had retired to his quarters a few hours back – a new year is hardly a momentous occasion when you’ve seen hundreds of them after all. But for Fionn and Alexia, it couldn’t be more significant. This was a new beginning, one they very nearly missed out on, one that could help them put their troubled pasts behind.
As the Grandfather clock at the end of room began chiming out the twelfth hour, Fionn felt Alexia embrace him. Hugging her back, they spent some time talking about all the potential the future held, and how they were primed to seize every last bit of it. For the first time he could remember, he was at peace.
It was then that the wave of dark energy hit them, a tsunami of anger and hatred rushing out from Tala Rane. As he reeled from the shock and struggled to steady himself, one name was burned into his mind – a name he’d hoped to leave behind.