Climbing the Steps

[Deraj]

A billowy remnant of smoke lingered as magical fires seemed to fade away. The mysterious gargoyle, dragging behind her a broken wing along with a few injuries to remember the occasion, disappeared under the shade of the Deep Forest. For a moment, all he could do was stand before his quiet home, waiting for some promised effect. Any minute now. At any moment the sudden result of an unexplainable series of events would hit, no doubt without warning, no doubt severe in its intensity. The not-knowing was the worst, but after seeing Jolicia and Faeryl, he was not so ready to suppose himself invulnerable to whatever would come.

Deraj turned, and ascended the chapel stairway.

Step.

A strange sensation in his foot, the prickly feeling of a limb falling asleep.

Step.

The armor seems a little heavy.

Step.

A little warm this winter day, is it not?

Step.

It certainly has been a long day.

Step.

Deep breaths. It has begun.

Step.

A burning sensation in his legs, as if after heavy exercise.

A few minutes later, he stood, hunched over and nearly collapsed on the stairway, one hand on the door handle attempting in almost desperation to open it. He reached into his pack, taking from it two white potions and, with trembling hands, consumed them both. Fortunately, it was sufficient to open the door just slight enough to enter.

[Deraj]

Rays of early morning light streamed through an open window, and a cold, wayward wind found its way into the room, rousing the man inside. Deraj turned in his bed and pushed himself up while simultaneously lowering his feet as he slowly awakened from a deep slumber. As a foot made contact with the cold stone floor, he stopped.

A year had passed since that fateful day, and over the course of that year he had, through a certain bitter persistence, regained a considerable portion of his lost strength. Yet it was not until this moment, as his feet touched the floor and as he beheld the sun half-risen on the horizon, that the curse had truly expired. Like awaking from a nightmare, he felt its lingering horror, but it had now crossed from a present anguish into a strange memory, for it was only now that the final link in the chain had disintegrated.

Had it really been a year? It was almost hard to believe. Deraj rose from his bed and began his preparations. Several items of importance were packed along with traveling supplies. He took a document noting his ownership in the Emerald Trading Company and left it on the bench of Rolf, his friend. Finishing that, he left the building and mounted his horse. With that, he left.

He later arrived at the Salty Dog in Britain, but found it empty. He missed his friends. But after all that had transpired, he wasn't sure if he would ever see them again. It had been a strange adventure, but now it was time to move on. Perhaps he would meet them again one day, but until then he would continue his journey and his search for meaning, for atonement, and the company of fellow travelers.