User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 62

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4th Era 150, 4th of Second Seed, Summerset Isle
Sometimes he wondered if abrupt sea storms were sent from Orgnum, seeing as they always seemed to come from nowhere, and usually when he was the furthest from the house.

However, right now this was not the case, as he was perched up on a ladder, repairing a small section of the roof that had been damaged by one of the freak storms; a branch had broken some of the wooden shingles. They'd waited until the storm had passed and the roof had dried out before he'd gone up the now-rickety ladder and tore off the injured shingles and began to replace them with newly shaved ones. Since he was on the fast track, he'd not used green wood, but rather some firewood of the right size off of the woodpile.

"I really need to make a new ladder," Balasian remarked, wobbling his way up with another shingle.

"It has been over 40 years, believe it or not." mused Curwe, standing beneath him, her hands steadying the ladder.

He reached the roof and sat on the edge before replying, looking down at her. "I knew practically nothing about carpentry, but we needed a ladder," he said, a smile growing on his light pink lips. "Little did I know that a better design would have been flat boards in between the logs, not more logs as steps."

"I guess it all boils down to trial and error." She flicked her eyes to the ladder that she still held and back up to him, sitting on the roof. "It still lasted a long time, though. Bad design or not."

"True." he smiled. "The nails are still good, however. I could reuse them when I make the new ladder."

"But won't they be a little bent?" she asked, puzzled.

"Nothing a few whacks with the hammer won't fix," he assured her, tossing down the broken roof tile and positioning the new one in its place. "I mean, that's what I'm doing now with the old nails here. What's to say I can't do it with the nails from the ladder?"

As he hammered the new shingle in place, he noticed a figure perched on the top of the roof. Turning his face, he saw Orthendar sitting there, watching him.

"You've become quite the handyman since coming here," the ghost remarked, a slight smile on his lips.

"I had to. Can't be lazy here, or Curwe would kick my ass," he replied, smiling out of a corner of his mouth.

"Damn right I would," she retorted, gazing up, shielding her eyes from the sun's glare. "Can't have a lazy man about. Got to whip him into shape."

He turned his head, the smile still in the corner of his mouth. "I think you'd make an exception in my case. I've been very close with you for 50 years, after all."

She rolled her eyes, her own lips twising in a smile.

Balasian's smile was bright. "Thought so." He turned his head to the spirit sitting on the roof next to him. "So, how is everything with everyone?"

Orthendar watched his longtime friend hammer nails into the shingle. He knew that when he began to tell of the recent events, Balasian's attitude would not be as lighthearted and bantering. Since the hammer would drown out his normal voice, he wanted to wait until his comrade was finished before telling him the news.

* * *

"You what?!" he shouted.

Orthendar raised his hands. "Hey. Easy. I had to."

"Why in Auri-El's name did you kill Carodaar?" Balasian continued to shout, getting angry. "You spoke so glowingly of him when he joined, and now you kill him?"

"Like I said: I had to."

"He was the only nobleman we had!"

"You think I enjoyed killing him? I wish with all of my soul that I didn't need to, but there was no other choice. He had gone mad and planned to reveal all of the Liberators he knew of. For the safety of everyone...for the safety of you...I killed him. He left me no choice."

Balasian's growing anger stuttered to a halt. "He what?"

Relieved that his friend now appeared more shocked than angry, Orthendar took this moment to fully explain the recent events.

* * *

There was a moment of heavy silence. Curwe was seated some feet away, eyes wide but quiet, as not to interfere. Balasian and Orthendar stood exactly opposite each other, facing one another. She could tell that Balasian was quite tensed, the way he was standing. Orthendar was less so, though still tense enough to show some (ethereal) muscles bunching slightly. Whenever Orthendar came with serious news, it was always a deep reminder that Balasian also came from another island empire, one with big problems. She didn't like to be reminded of that (though kept these thoughts to herself), and prefered when Orthendar's news was just of the "checking in" sort, when she didn't see that serious part of him, the part that scared her.

After another few moments, Balasian finally spoke. "So there was no other way," he said, voice strained.

"No," Orthendar simply said, his voice also strained, like a string pulled too tight.

Her love's stiff posture slowly unwound as he continued to stare at the ghost before him. At length, he sunk to the ground, sitting there, staring at Orthendar's boots.

"Has there been any other...upsets...within us?" he finally asked, quietly.

The spirit lowered himself until he squatted, eye level, with Balasian.

"No, thank the gods," he replied softly, his arms resting on his knees. "Everyone is as usual."

He heaved a great sigh. "Good. I..." he looked up into the ghost's face. "I'm sorry I got angry with you."

Orthendar shrugged. "There's no need to apologize. Everyone else got mad at me, too."

"Do they also know of these...recent events?"

"Yes. I wanted to tell you the moment it happened, but knew I should wait until the investigation was over."

"So...this...Carodaar's death, I mean...was blamed on Vaermina?" Balasian asked, making sure he got it right. It was still so hard to take in fully. He readjusted himself into a more comfortable crosslegged position.

"Yes." Orthendar repeated. "We were able to plant 'evidence' in Carodaar's home the moment we learned the Investigator was looking into Vaermina worship. He closed the case just today."

After another long pause, Balasian sighed again. "Damn, he was the only noble we had." He rubbed his face in his hands, smoothing back his white hair. "Not that our other members don't mean anything, but..." He heaved another heavy sigh. "Thank you. Its moments like this that I feel so...powerless and...useless."

Orthendar rose and reached forward to his friend and closed his fist around the air and pulled upward. Balasian rose with the motion until he was back on his feet.

"Don't you go mad on us now. You were by the King's side; you know things the rest of us don't. You know how he thinks, what he does and how he does it. Yes, there are many members in the Royal Guard, but you know far more about the King's nuances than they ever will." He folded his arms across his chest. "Only you know best how to combat the King. We - and an eventually liberated Pyandonea - need you."

Balasian sighed once more. "Yeah..."

"We're an arrow that will strike Orgnum's heart, and you are the bow. We may not eradicate his regime tomorrow, but we will eventually...of that I am certain. And only with your leadership will we accomplish our goals."