to grow and change, everything for the better. Birds sing to us as we pass and our feet grind against the dirt of the path with scuffing noises. The pine boughs rustle and the wind blows lightly. A fox darts across the path and scrutinizes us from the cover of a thick hedge.
The air is fresh. The cool wind brings a strong scent of pine and makes the air seem even crisper. The path leads up the left ridge of the vale, and eventually we rise above the tops of the trees and walk along the rocky ridge towards the top of the waterfall. We reach it much faster than we had the previous time.
We eat lunch a little ways from the opening of the cave. There is little speaking, as the purpose of the sidetrack is obvious and unspoken.
“Would you like us to come in with you?” asks Percival.
“You may come if you want,” I reply softly. “I expect nothing from any of you.”
Nathaniel is coming, but he does not need to voice it.
We walk to the mouth of the cave together and stop. Unlit torches sit on the rocky walls just inside. The water feeding the falls flows from the cave solemnly, like it’s respecting the occasion. It seems too fast and deep to allow crossing at any point.
The cave is dark, so I take one of the torches from its sconce and light it with my flint and steel.
“We will wait here,” Percival says on behalf of the group. “You can go on.”
I nod. “Thank you,” I mutter. Nathaniel nods. Then we turn and start into the cave on the left side of the underground river.
I hold the torch steadily. The fire casts orange light on the rocky walls, spiky shadows flickering over the floor and sides. The tunnel turns right and the light from the mouth goes out of sight.
Then we turn left and behold the tomb.
It sits just as we left it. The rectangular box is placed exactly in the middle of the room, and unlit torches sit on the walls in their sconces. I light the ones to the sides with the torch I brought in. Then I stand by my brother and study the stone tomb.
We say nothing. I rest my unoccupied hand on top of the tomb as Father would rest his hand on my shoulder: with tenderness and strength.
Are you proud? I ask silently. Are you proud of me? Of what I have done and what I am becoming? I stop and wait, as if for a response. It doesn’t come. There are some who have taken to calling me Dragonhammer. I fight for you. I am well on my way to avenging you. You will not have died in vain. I pause again. Mother is in danger. The last thing you said to me was to take care of my mother. I intend to honor that request. She will be safe. I have already lost you. It would destroy me to lose her. The enemy knows this and they mean to destroy me by bringing harm to her. I would not be able to live with myself if such a thing were to happen. I promise you now that she will be safe. Nothing will happen to her. I bring her love. All will be well.
I look to Nathaniel and see a tear rolling down his cheek. I take my hand from the lid of the tomb and place it on his shoulder. I shake his shoulder softly and he looks at me. I give him a small comforting smile. Then I take my hand from his shoulder and say one last thing to my father.
There is a hole in my heart caused by your murder. I ache every moment. The hole refuses to be filled. It cannot be filled. You hold a place in me that no other comes close to. I love you, Father. I will return.
Then I quench the hanging torches and we turn and leave the tomb.
Nathaniel wipes his eyes before we reach the mouth of the cave. His eyes are still slightly red when we walk into the sunlight. Percival gives me a smile similar to the one I gave Nathaniel. I nod to him and say quietly, “Thank you.”
“Let’s keep moving,” he says. Then I remember the reason for our journey and I am filled with an entirely different emotion.
“Yes,” I agree. “Let’s.”
Then we trek down the ridge from which we had come. There’s