The realm had once more begun bustling with life after the disappearance of the Otherworlders.
The snow had buried the blood that had been splashed on the ground, and the aboriginals had resud their daily life, opening their house doors and stalls.
From a cold and icy world filled with nothing but the strange Otherworlders, to a place filled with life and bustling with noise and laughter.
All it took was a difference in the people living therein.
In one of these places was a small village, nestled farther from the main city.
There sat two n, on a round table, bottles of alcoholic wine placed on the table, with so having fallen and shattered on the ground.
One of the n was gray-haired, with dull green eyes, dressed in a thick furry coat that covered his entire figure.
He was none other than Batherlemy, Felicie’s uncle, but now his green eyes, once brimming with life, had dulled considerably, all signs of hope having been lost.
The Otherworlders had returned, and Felicie, who had gone in search of her father, had yet to return.
The scene was one all too familiar, and all his life he had sworn to prevent such a thing from happening again, yet here it was.
He had failed his promise to his beloved brother to protect his daughter until his death, and now the only thing that could help him stay sane was drowning himself in the bottle of alcohol.
Opposite him was his loyal friend, Fernand, who shared his sorrow.
Fernand’s job was to remain close to his childhood friend, drowning himself in the long bottles of wine that seed unending.
Silence reigned in the area, nothing to be heard, save for the sound of wooden covers being opened, but quickly, there ca the sound of rushing footsteps.
The two n were too drowned in their sorrows to care for the joyful rush of children, but a figure appeared in the corner.
It was that of a woman who seed to be short of breath.
“What’s wrong, ridian?” Fernand, who still had his little bit of sanity, asked the woman, who remained silent for so ti, trying to regulate her breathing.
But she forced the words out of her throat.
“They… They are back!” she scread between gasps, as Fernand raised an eyebrow.
“And who are back, ridian? The Otherworlders?” Fernand asked, rising to his feet, and Batherlemy did the sa.
They might both have been drowning in sorrow and grief, but that couldn’t stop them from fulfilling their duty of protecting the village, if it so happened that the Otherworlders had returned once more.
“No! They are back! Felicie… and Jeffrey!” ridian forced out, and the n stood in their seats, looking at the woman with dropped eyes, before they settled back down.
“There’s no need to try and console us that way, ridian. We are n, and learning to move on…” Fernand said, as Batherlemy’s green eyes beca covered in red veins, a result of being once more reminded of what he had so desperately tried to save.
“n, you both are, I see…” A voice suddenly rang out from the distance, and both n’s eyes widened in shock as they turned their gaze down the far distance, where a total of three figures could be seen slowly walking forth.
SHATTER!
SHATTER!
The sound of bottles shattering to pieces rang out as both n rose to their feet, causing the glasses of alcohol on the table to tip over to the ground, along with the table.
The figure before them—both n recognized it instantly.
“This can’t be real! This can’t be real!” Batherlemy said in disbelief as the trio advanced forth, but Fernand was already running towards them.
Even though his bones were old and weary, it was as if they had returned back to their youth, as Fernand appeared before Jeffrey, slamming straight into him and knocking him off his feet.
“He’s real, Batherlemy! He’s real!” Fernand scread out, unable to believe his own words, and Batherlemy appeared just a few seconds later.
“Jeffrey… It can’t be you, my brother…” Bartholow said, struggling with all of his energy to hold back his tears.
“A long ti it has been, younger blood,” Jeffrey replied as he grabbed his own brother tightly.
He might have grown old, and his hair having turned gray.
But how could he forget his younger brother?
Both n could count the number of tis they had cried in their lives, but they would both agree they had never cried this hard.
It was a reuniting beyond death itself.
For Batherlemy was without a doubt that death had claid his elder brother.
Yet here he was before him, in the flesh, looking as young as ever.
Felicie stood to the side, heart pounding a little from fear.
Dhe knew well she would soon face the fury of her own uncle for running away from him, but surprise it was when she felt a hand grab her and pull her into a deep hug.
“I thought I lost you too, Felicie. I thought I’d lost everything…” Bartholow wept aloud, and Felicie felt her eyes grow teary.
The love her uncle had for her—it was boundless.
It was everything.
She knew all of it, and she couldn’t imagine the pain he had gone through for not seeing her.
How hard it must have been for him to force down the truth of her own death.
The three n and Felicie hugged each other tightly, welcoming and accepting the fact that they had once more been reunited, against all odds.
Finally, Batherlemy turned his gaze to Zeras, who stood silently to the side.
The young man’s eyes were as dull as ever, just as they had been the first ti he had t him.
When he had t him, he had wanted nothing more than to put an end to him.
He had chased him out of his house, ordering him never to return in the most disrespectful manner.
But against all odds, he had not only brought back Felicie, but it was no doubt he was the one responsible for his own brother too.
“Ever since my brother had followed after an Otherworlder and never returned, I have been filled with nothing but hate towards all Otherworlders.”
“This hate I have directed towards you too.”
“But today, my eyes have been opened, and you have given sothing to believe in.”
“Now I feel nothing but guilt towards how I have treated you.
“Tell , Otherworlder. What may I do to seek your forgiveness?”
Reviews
All reviews (0)