3rd adventure: Rebirth

8:52 PM, 25th of December
Waterglass, Free Feathers

The village is quiet, but not completely asleep. Light shine through the shutters of some of the homes, and all the chimneys are spewing dark smoke. The air is not only cold, but glacial; Brandon and Bervlin, the two guards on duty, are experiencing it first-hand. White clouds escape their mouths each time they breathe out, and shards of ice have begun to congregate on their eyebrows. Frowning seems to help.

"What time is it?" Brandon asks his young female co-worker.

"Lemme check," Bervlin replies as she pulls on her sleeve to look at her wristwatch. She then grumbles. "Don't know. I can't see shit without a torch."

Brandon sighs. "Let me see."

"Why? It's too dark to see anything."

"Just let me see."

"No."

He now has stopped walking. "Don't be an ass and let me see!"

She also stops walking. "There's only one asshole here, and it's not me."

"I didn't call you an asshole," he protests.

"It was close enough," she retorts. "Dickhead."

This dispute continues for a while until Bervlin finally relents and presents her wrist to him. Brandon leans in and looks.

"Ah!" he exclaims. "It's almost nine. Told you I could see it."

"That's because there are people with a lantern coming towards us," she replies to him.

Her eyes fixed on a carriage that just entered the village; five people are sitting in it, including the driver. The two guards instinctively reach for their swords.

"Halt!" Bervlin hollers. "Who goes there?"

Her companion immediately interrupts. "I'm the one who's supposed to be talking."

"Shut the fuck up Bran." She glowers at him, and then returns her attention to the carriage. "Who goes there?"

"Sergeant Ingrid Marley," a feminine voice responds. It's the driver of the carriage. "4th Squad, 3rd Company of the 2nd Battalion. Free military."

Even with the lantern hanging from the carriage, it is difficult to discern the uniform of these travelers. Just to be sure, Brandon takes a small step forward to examine them more closely.

"Yep, these are soldiers alright," he confirms. "Except for that other fellow in the back."

"Is this official business?" Bervlin asks. "Or are you just here to spend the night?"

"Official business," the sergeant replies. "We're escorting Saemon Olyr back to his home. Could you let the warden know we've arrived? We're freezing our butts out here."

The two guards cease all movements, and then slowly turn their gaze towards the lone figure in the carriage who isn't wearing a uniform. Brandon is the first to move again; he takes a step forward, and then another, until he can see the face of the man he's known as Waterglass' chief of Militia.

"Holy titties," he exclaims. "Sir, is that you?"

________________________________________

Amelia has just finished knitting a new pair of mittens. Happy of herself, she places them on the low table that stands between her and the fireplace. Only a few seconds later, her cat rushes into the room and takes off with the mittens in its mouth.

"Scarfy!" she vociferates. "Not again! You can't play with these!"

For the minute or so, the two of them play a game of cat and mouse (ironically enough), until they are both interrupted by a knock on the door. Amelia uses this distraction to grab the mittens from Scarfy.

"How's that? Uh?" She looks triumphantly at the cat, who stares back at her. "Oh no, you're never getting them back."

Dejected, Scarfy makes its way to the couch to lay down on it. The person at the door knocks again.

"Coming!" the young woman says as she walks towards the door. She reaches for the knob, and turns it.

For the next few seconds, she stops breathing. Even after eight months, she can still recognize him. His hair is longer. His chin is covered in stubble. And he's even thinner than before. But she can still recognize him. Words can't leave her mouth. She can't even see the warden who's standing a few feet away from them. It just doesn't seem real.

"Amelia?" The way he is looking at her, it's as if he had just recognized her.

She doesn't even say anything. She lunges at her brother and wraps her arms around him. Her embrace is so strong that it hurts a little, but he doesn't care. He simply puts his own arms around her small stature and softly rubs her back.

"It's okay," he says. "I'm okay."

Tears escape her eyes, and very soon, she begins to sob. But Saemon doesn't seem to mind, as he continues to comfort his sister just like he used to do, so many years ago.

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