(Untitled)

[forsaken_bard]

The sea's soft breath caressed his face. The saltwater condensing and running like tears down his face. The feeling of the wind and the lapping of the waves on his bare feet

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[_mother_dearest]

Lyrae watches.

One finger twitches with the tempo of the tune, beat by beat. Perfect. She knows it by heart. The notes hang on the wind, a soft echo.

"Are you coming in, Joar?"

[forsaken_bard]

Joar did not look back at her as he stopped humming with some irritation. His hand pulls his black cloak around her as if the wind had grown chill.

"It is pleasant out here, Mother."

[_mother_dearest]

"It will not stay that way, however," she replies sternly, and it's so easy to slip back, "A storm is on the way."

The music fades.

[forsaken_bard]

He could feel the approaching storm as well, and rather sullenly admitted it. A gust of wind sent his dark hair billowing.

"I know..."

A pause as he glanced over his shoulder.

"But shall we not enjoy it for a time?"

[_mother_dearest]

She frowns at that, forehead creasing. That is an irresponsible attitude, they should go back and prepare - the villagers might need them later.

But didn't they always do the responsible thing? She insisted.

"A time."

Her throat aches, as if with tears. The darkening sky rumbles softly in the distance.

[forsaken_bard]

A thankful, small smile, though the words remained unspoken. The dry, sterile sound of thunder over the mountains, but here it was pleasant and peaceful. For time.

"Is something the matter, Mother?"

[_mother_dearest]

(No! Joar, you listen! Listen to me!)

"I still don't understand," she says, voice soft. "I am not sure I-"

The waves rush closer, peaking higher. The tide is coming in.

[forsaken_bard]

Rising to his feet, he turned and faced her. The sand clung to his wet feet as the wind pulled at his cape.

(Murmur of maternal lamentation)

"The current swept us both away. It was all so much bigger than we thought."

[_mother_dearest]

"I thought to make it simple - there is right and wrong, and yet-"

She searches for words in the fading light. She just wanted him to succeed, great and good, and perhaps he grew great by the end, but at such a cost.

(Poor child, my child)

"I cannot even say how it began to go wrong."

[forsaken_bard]

Looking down with a sigh, Joar shook his head. The tide was certainly coming in. No doubt about that. The seafoam lingered around his bare feet.

"Neither can I."

[_mother_dearest]

"I'm sorry."

And now she's said it, it's like a tidal wave - or one of those that rushes across the sands to foam around their feet, and since when was she standing beside him? Tears slide down her cheeks, one, two, and she reaches up to touch them.

They taste of the sea.

[forsaken_bard]

Laying his hand gently on her shoulder, Joar took a deep breath. He had never wanted it to be like this. It was never his intention.

"...And so am I."

There was the cry of gulls, and the soft roar of the sea.

DA

The reverberation of thunder over the distant mountains.