As she took the first step it began to rain, heavy tears falling through the trees. Elora pulled her hood over her head and heaved the war hammer onto her shoulders as the sky turned black. It was going to be a dark evening - as dark as the words she had for Jaygen.
Warm light spilled out from the inn’s leaded windows. The old thatched building was a welcome sight as Elora trudged through the courtyard, passing a stone well while her boots spattered mud up her ankles and shins.
The heavy door creaked inwards when she put her shoulder to it. The thought of putting the Fist of the North down so she could knock had occurred to her, but once that heavy weapon was on your back the momentum just carried you forwards.
Warmth from the open fire greeted her, as did the smell of freshly baked bread, yet there was nobody in the bar room. The large oak table was polished, its chairs neatly pushed underneath, the old bar was also clean and void of life. Surely they were not to bed already.
She was about to shout out when an elderly man sauntered into the room.
“There you are Jaygen. I’ve been...Elora?” asked Norgie, a grin spreading across his weathered face. His eyes became alight with excitement as he rushed across the room and crushed her in a tight hug.
“Hello Norgie,” Elora replied. “I take it Jaygen isn’t here then?” She lowered the huge hammer from her shoulders, her body suddenly feeling feather light.
“No, he’s still in the stables. Spends most of his time with the horses.” He scratched the grey stubble on his chin, making a scraping sound while glancing down at the hammer. “Where are the others?”
Elora tightened her lips, giving herself a moment before replying. It was all still too raw. “I better wait for Jaygen, he should hear it first.”
“Right you are lass,” Norgie said, a sad smile playing across his aged lips. Once he was satisfied that she was safe he leaned over the bar and took a bottle of wine and two glasses from a shelf. After pouring himself a drink he offered Elora one. She shook her head.
“Did you do it then? Sing that song to bind Solarius?” Norgie asked.
“Yes, I sang the Eversong but it was a trap. I ended up releasing him and he released his Dark Army onto Earth.” She pulled a chair from under the table and slouched into it. “I guess you can’t see what’s happened beyond the protection that surrounds Rams Keep.”
Norgie nodded, the news giving him a sombre expression.
“I killed him,” she continued. “My father and Diagus both. I drove a blade straight through their hearts.” She studied him, expecting the old man to flinch away from her, to call her a killer, a monster - she deserved it. Instead he pulled out the chair next to her, sat down and poured her a drink.
“It’s the deeds that makes a person evil. What you did, killing your father; that wasn’t evil. And if the Shadojak needed to die, then I’m damn sure it was his decision.”
She swallowed a mouthful of wine, tasting blackberries and cherries, the sweet flavours in stark contrast to her bitter mood.
“I’m the Shadojak now.”
Norgie’s glass paused halfway to his mouth, his hand trembling with age as his brow deepened.
“That explains the black cloak then. So you’re here to do what? Judge? Avenge? Balance?” He drained the remainder of his glass. “Alone?”
“I’m here to do whatever it takes.” She finished off the wine. “And it would be safer for all involved if I do work alone.”
The door suddenly swung open and Jaygen stepped onto the polished floor. His boots were as muddy as hers and half the night’s rain dripped from his matted hair and clothes. He took one look at her, his hazel eyes widening as they swung to his father’s hammer which she had left leaning against the table.
“I’ll go see what Gurple’s up to, leave you two to talk,” Norgie said as he excused himself, closing the door behind him.
Elora took in the tall boy, a couple of years her junior, fourteen, maybe fifteen years of age. His usual shy demeanour changing from shock to anger as he approached her, his wet fingers reaching for the hammer.
“Are they both...”
“No, your mother is alive. She’s making her way home with Bray,” Elora said, watching him grasp the Fist’s shaft and lift it from the floor.
“How did my father die? Was it in battle?” Jaygen asked, sadly. “He always said that’s how he wanted to go. Fire in his blood and steel in his hand.”
Elora nodded. “Your father saved our lives. He held the pass by himself, holding back the Imperial Army.”
“Yeah,” Jaygen said, his voice dropping to a whisper as he lifted the hammer onto the hooks on the wall beside the fire. “That’s how he wanted it.”
“The Fist belongs to you now. Ragna wanted you to have it.”
Jaygen stared up at his father’s weapon, the dull steel glowing red in the firelight.
“I don’t want it. Big clumsy lump of metal,” he said.
Elora rose and took a step towards him and placed a hand on his arm; a pathetic attempt at consoling but she didn’t know enough about the boy to help. In the end he flinched from her touch and without saying a word marched outside into the storm.
She made to go after him but Norgie called her back.
“The lad’s best left alone. He’ll come around in his own time.”
Elora paused, her hand on the door handle. “I don’t know how much time we have. This world’s already fallen, the longer we leave it before retaliating, the deeper the hold the Dark Army will have.”
She pushed out into the night in search of Jaygen.
The stables were dark, yet warm. A musky smell of horse and hay reached her nose as she pushed the gate open and stepped inside.
“Jaygen?” Her only answer were the snickers from her own horse, Daisy.
The Gypsy Vanna nuzzled her before nipping at her cloak. Elora stroked her nose as she stepped passed, brushing her hand down the mare’s slender neck and feeling the soft skin. Jaygen had done a good job of looking after her and a great deal of time grooming. But he wasn’t here now. Maybe he found somewhere in the forge or inn to run to. He knew this place a lot better than she did.
She left the stables, snapping the gate shut behind her when something hit her legs hard and almost drove her to her knees.
