FEB DWC: Conclusion
“And then-- I woke up. When I breathed in, ash burned my lungs. Her branches trembled before the morning sun, leaves blazing in the wind. When I looked down, it was-- it was her I saw. Kallarel collapsed on my chest, right where... this appeared.”
Bruce pulled down the collar of his shirt, revealing brambles and flames in gold all rung around the spot where his heart beat.
“I don’t know what she did or how we got there, or what it means,” he confessed. “I don’t know anything-- except... I’m alive because of her. And I love her. But that’s not a very satisfying ending, is it?”
“Yeah, see?” Thil tutted his tongue with a cheeky grin, tucking the napkin and pencil stub into his vest pocket. “Bard’s work ain’t as easy as you say it is, y’know?”
Bruce scoffed into his beer.
“Three times though, huh? An’ ya still ain’t heard it right!” Thil went on.
“E’Andusore was a clever girl, but with too big a heart. She tended a powerful magic circle deep in the once wilds of Quel’Thalas, she and her faithful hound Mefeon. The sacred site held the key to Life after Death; the natural cycle made manifest in mana. A power she used to heal the sick and soothe the dying. There were many who coveted it, but any fool enough to try and claim it would never return from her forest.
“Until the Lord came with hate in his heart and fire on his tongue, burning his way to her altar. Loyal and true, Mefeon battled the Lord to his last breath. When he fell--”
“--Nah, that can’t be right.”
He was cut off by Bruce’s empty beer stein thudding the counter, signaling the bartender for a refill. “Bard’s work’s easy, if you get the story right. You're just rubbish."
Thil theatrically deflated with a wounded gasp, clutching at his non-existent pearls. “A knife through this trash heap’s heart!”
As their shared laugh faded, Bruce asked: “But how was the Lord defea’ed?”
“Well,” Thil winked. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”