Shadowrun - Earthdawn - Poisoned Memories

by kubasik

"What?”

  "What if I wrote the first letter to your sons. Introducing you to them."

  "You would do that?"

  "At the least, I'm curious to see how it turns out."

  "Very well."

  We flew with the dwarfs back to my home. On the way, I thought of Mountainshadow's words about truth. I decided during the flight to tell Kyrethe about my attack on her—an attack that I never finished, but had been a part of me nonetheless. I remembered how I had kept so much from Releana, and that had always made me afraid to be around her.

  Although I was not the man who would do that now, I did not want the fear of it lurking in my thoughts, making me wonder if Kyrethe saw the monster hidden in me. I decided she should know, and then make up her own mind.

  "Why are you telling me this?" she asked, shocked.

  “Because I love you. I want you to know who I was. What I was capable of. I don't want to think I tricked you.”

  She did not hide from me, but she was withdrawn for the rest of the trip. When the airship reached my home, she said she would go out into the world for some time. She said, "I've spent sot much of my time alone. I need to get used to being in the world before I settle with you." I do not expect to see her again. But strangely, I am content. The love we had on the island was true. And this time I did not try to hide from the world.

  In the meantime, I have my house to clean up. I think I will move to Throal. Varulus offered me a home there years and years ago. I was in such a rush to move on, I never considered the offer seriously until now. It might be nice to be trapped in a kingdom with so many people.

  But now you are here. And right now, you are all the company I could ever want. You have been here for me, with no real reason to listen, with no other purpose than the attempt at communion. It is, I think, these exchanges that keep us alive as much as food and water. We are not like the beasts, you know. We know more than they, and because of this, must work harder to be kind.

  Epilogue

  J'role's old hand wavered a bit in the air, uncertain of where to place itself. His fear showed so clearly. Fear of what, Samael was not certain. The blade Samael held on his lap? Or Samael's rejection?

  Days had passed. Samael had remained cold and aloof. He had wanted to make things difficult for his father. His father filled the silence with his tale. The old man was so animated when spinning his narrative! So full of life! If only he'd become a troubadour instead of a thief. And yet, that was obviously not the way of it.

  For a moment a sharp stab of smugness shot through Samael, for now he sat in judgment.

  But there was nothing he wanted to judge. His father stared at the wall, spent. Whatever he had wanted to say, he had said.

  Samael stood, placed the sword on the ground. He knelt beside his father and took his wrinkled hands. "I hated you for so long for not being there."

  "Yes. That would make sense."

  "I'm sorry you went through the life you did."

  "And I'm sorry you suffered through my life."

  Samael smiled a rueful smile.

  They were silent for a while longer, and then Samael said, "I would like to have you in my life. There are things I could learn from you."

  "And I from you. I'm beginning to think that my profession is one for younger, sad men.

  But I've always loved to tell a good story. You, as a troubadour adept, could teach me much."

  Samael smiled. "I could teach you a few things ..."

  "No. Everything! I want to become an adept."

  Samael opened his mouth to tell his father he was so old. Wasn't it time to stop? Then he remembered the fate awaiting J'role—writing his story again and again. What better skill to acquire?

  So he did teach his father the ways of the storyteller's magic, and the two of them traveled to Throal. There they regaled the citizens with outlandish narratives that they created together. Their fame grew and grew, and it was an odd night when they did not tell tales at the court of Throal, with King Varulus and his son Neden listening attentively.

  Over time J'role and Releana did meet again. Though they were uncomfortable at first, soon they became good friends, with the depth of caring that can only come from shared pain. And even Torran, with caution, approached his father.

  But it was Kyrethe's return that made J'role happiest of all. One day she arrived in the Kingdom of Throal. The two of them were tentative at first, as they had been on the island. Their courtship lasted several years, with Kyrethe trying to determine whether J'role was the man she had thought he was. In time she came to trust him as he trusted himself. They were married, and never had anyone seen so rambunctious a couple, with or without consideration of their age.

  J'role would sometimes think, And when I die, I will be able to write again and again how much I loved her. His whole life story, in fact, the pain and pleasure, became his to embrace.

  When he did die, he visited Death once more, and she gave him a large desk to work at.

  There, amid all the stacks of countless other lives, he wrote his narrative again and again.

  And each time he finished it he wrote the words: AND HE LEARNED TO WRITE HIS

  STORY.

  Document Outline

  section 1.doc

  Section 2.doc

  section 3.doc

  Section 4.doc