Flying swiftly through the stony halls of Ica's abode, Feathers searched for the God of war. Flying from room to room, she came to the main chambers of Ica and found that he was not at home. All around her could be seen tapestries of the great wars that mankind had seen. In them all one figure remained the same, that of Ica swinging his morgenstern at whatever opponent he had found on that day. The room had little furniture and was built around a dais that was hollowed out and filled with water. Landing on the cold stone Feathers looked into the water and images began to swim back and forth within it. Concentrating, she thought of Ica and saw him fighting with the patrons of some bar, laughing as they tried to overcome him.
Feathers heaved what appeared to be a sigh, knowing that it was impossible to get his attention when he was fighting. Pacing along the stonework she tried to think of how she could help her friend Cameron see that the Gods did still care what happened in the world. Suddenly the image of the elf appeared in the water. He was astride his war horse Corsican charging down one of Cosrin's causeways. He seemed deep in thought as he rode, stopping only to kill those beasts who foolishly tried to ambush him along the way. She watched him from her perch upon the dais until he entered the gates of Moorgate.
Cameron entered the city, snow still clinging to his cloak as he rode towards the fighter's guild. He dismounted from Corsican and handed him to a squire to be stabled.
He held the bow that Morlend had empowered in his hands and thought upon his next course of action. After a few moments, the ranger moved to the bunk room to store the pulsating bow in his locker.
Paying little heed to the world around him, he was at his locker long before he noticed the Lady Fins standing at the window that looked out upon the sea. Sighing to himself as his grief for Jihad returned again, he stored the bow and moved to stand beside her. She was standing alone, her armour stored away and a simple white dress adorned her shoulders. As he spoke, he removed the bronze helm from his head and let his hair fall free.
"Greetings Lady Fins," began the elf, "how goes the day?"
Startled from her watch of the harbor, she stared up at the ranger.
"Slowly ... ," she began, "my days go very slowly ... have ya heard word from Jihad?
Cameron looked out the window to see the boats docked there.
"None Lady. I would have thought tae have heard from him by now. His silence worries me."
Troll looked away from the window and stared at this woman who loved his brother. Her dark blond tresses folded upon her shoulders and draped down her back. Her eyes stared out to the sea and he saw the pain within them, a pain he felt himself from time to time.
"Lady, I know that we do nae speak very often, but I want ye tae know that if ye ever need tae talk ... about anything at all, my door is always open tae ye. I see the burden upon ye. Please, remember that I am here tae help and protect ye in me brother's absence. I think he would have wanted it that way."
The half-elven woman turned away from the window and looked up at Cameron's eyes. Sadly she smiled at him.
"You miss him too, don't ya?" she asked. "Maybe it would be better for us both if we were to talk about him."
"Aye, Lady. I think we two know something of the others pain... If ye need me just call me name." And with that he turned away and left the room.
Lady Fins stared after her guild master for a moment, surprised by his openness with her and then returned to her watch of the harbor.
Trollhater returned to his office, the desk piled with paperwork. Petitions for titles, constructions costs for the guild expansions and some responses to his letters for new tutors he had sent throughout land and over the seas. He removed the pack from his back, grateful to be free of the weight. Sitting behind his desk he stared at the portrait of his brother Jihad upon the wall. A sigh broke from the elven ranger. It had been two months since his brother had left on his overseas journey, and still no word. Lately, he had been quietly seeing to it that Fins was taken care of. He thought of her standing at the window, the new day sun adding an aura of light to her hair as it ...
Quickly he shook his head, to rid himself of the thought. He grabbed up one of the letters and threw himself into his work, trying to forget about Morlend, about Jihad, and mostly trying to forget about the Lady Fins.
For hours he sat there pouring over the work at hand, but as the day went on, the lack of sleep of the past few days caught up with him as he fell asleep at his desk.
In the corner of the room, a mouse chewed contentedly upon it's bit of cheese. A small glow of white light could be seen within it's eyes.
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Crisis of Faith chapter eight
