As the World Falls Down

21st of Camince, 1485
 
That numbness, the most welcome detachment, is gone. Ripped away like an autumn leaf in the wind. I went to see Ravlor today. If I’d been thinking more clearly, I might have allowed myself an additional bit of time to stay in a state of floating in an ocean of numb detachment. Alas, I needed to get my journals back, seeing as my concern over Filandrel getting them is no longer an issue… Although, if I’m being perfectly honest, it was also because I really needed to talk to Ravlor.
 
I told Grimaldus and my parents that I was leaving and would return shortly, then scried on Ravlor’s location. Every time I do that, I have to quell the momentary rush of panic that I won’t be able to find him, but I think it’s just a remnant of old anxiety from when I was searching for him in Latria.
 
My scrying went off without any issues, so I teleported right outside of their cabin. I looked around, it was what I was expecting… a small, well built cabin, deep in the Alcarin woods. Ravlor must have been keeping an eye on everything, as he had promised.
 
Doodles answered the door at my knock, his face split into a grin. Ravlor looked up from where he was skinning a couple of rabbits. “You lived.” He stated, glancing pointedly to my journals stacked neatly in a chest.
I nodded. “You too.” Of course he lived, I hadn’t been expecting him to die, but that’s the script we usually follow out of habit.
 
“Tell me everything.” Ravlor said.
I opened my mouth to speak, to explain what had transpired over the past weeks, but words would not come. I said a single word, “Filandrel,” and felt the floodgates crash open. All of the pain that I’d been burying beneath my façade of control came rushing to the surface and tears began pouring, uncontrolled, down my face.
 
Ravlor wiped his hands clean on a rag, and wrapped me in a huge hug. I just stood there, feeling completely out of control as sobs wracked my body. Ravlor just did what he always does, and held me until the tears stopped enough that I could speak coherently.
 
“Where is everyone else?” He gently prompted after a while.
 
“Grimaldus is in Alcarin.” I took a shuddering breath, lifting my head from his shoulder. “Dekar is dead, you already know… Hasim died and Rowan reincarnated him into the body of the axiomyte… something he didn’t belong in… he doesn’t even speak Elvish!” I lamented, not wanting to examine why that in particular bothers me so bad. “I even tried to teach him, but he refused to learn…:
 
“Inira is a vampire now.” I blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt at Ravlor’s shocked expression. I probably could have handled that better… “And Rowan…” I took a deep breath, trying to pull myself together. “Filandrel killed her.”
Ravlor looked apologetic, but not entirely surprised. He had warned me… “You NEED to stop. Get away from him as soon as you can.”
“Stop what?” I had asked.
“Talking to him. Being around him. Knowing him. Everything. He’s dangerous… he’s beyond dangerous… Why do you think he even needs to hide his identity around our own kin? He’s a killer.”
 
He didn’t say anything, he just stood there and waited for me to continue. “He trapped me in a force cage, and apologized… looking right at me as he killed her.” I didn’t bother wiping the fresh wave of tears. “I couldn’t stop him… I just stood there, helplessly banging my fists against the wall while Rowan died right there in front of me, and I didn’t do anything to stop it!”
 
“Didn’t?” Ravlor asked quietly. “Or couldn’t?”
“Didn’t, couldn’t…” I shrugged miserably. “It amounts to the same thing.”
“No, it doesn’t, Inara, and you know it!” Ravlor pulled back, gripping my shoulders and forcing me to meet his gaze. “Don’t do that to yourself. You did what you could with the hand you were dealt.”
I shook my head. “But, I asked him…” without the armored façade I’d maintained for the past few days, my guilt was laid bare like an open wound, and an insidious voice in my mind whispered that he would condemn me for it. He should condemn me for it… “I invited him to join us. I asked him for his help…”
“Inara…” Ravlor said.
“You don’t understand…” I started to explain, feeling like I was digging my own grave. “I couldn’t even harm him, in the end… it was Grimaldus and Hasim who killed him… and when he was dying, I would likely have saved him, if I could… I hated him, but, I still…” I trailed off, unable to put words on the conflicted feelings swirling through my mind and heart. I wanted Filandrel to pay for what he did, but at the same time, I don’t think I would have been able to actually kill him… what does that say about me?
“Inara…” Ravlor insisted. “Don’t do this to yourself… you care. That’s never a bad thing. You’re a good person… you care, even when you shouldn’t, when it’s…” I could almost hear his unspoken “Filandrel”, “…undeserved.”
 
I shook my head, but didn’t argue… it was pointless anyways, he wouldn’t change his opinion on that, he never had…
 
“Hate to spoil the moment…” Doodles called over his shoulder, poking at the fire. “But dinner. I don’t have that many more years, and I don’t intend on missing another dinner.” He cackled, rubbing his slight paunch. When I looked at Doodles, it hit me… he is looking older, even than the last time I saw him.
 
Ravlor’s earlier comment about dreading the inevitable loss of the goblin surfaced in my mind. Doodles is getting old, nearing the end of his life… Hasim will grow old and die… even Damian, for all of the issues surrounding him right now… he will grow old and be gone in less than a century. Secilia will likely have a longer life than the others, but not compared to mine. And Grimaldus… Grimaldus isn’t a young man as it is… there will come a point, sometime far too soon for me, that he will reach the end of his life, and I will be left to go on. This is what everyone has been warning me about… I realized. What am I doing? Humans live so much in the moment, because they can… their lives are short… but what if I live so much in the moment that when Grimaldus’ moments are done, I don’t want to have any more of my own?
 
“Come, join us for dinner and we can talk more.” Ravlor interrupted my thoughts, brushing a stray tear from my cheek almost reflexively.
 
Dinner was the simple, but delicious, fare that seems common among the rangers. Meriwald was thrilled when Ravlor handed him an entire platter of meat… prepared just the way Meriwald prefers, which is to say, not at all… It was the first time I’ve seen him happy in days, and I’ll take anything good that I can get right now…
 
Over dinner, I started at the beginning and gave him a summary of what has transpired since I went east with Grimaldus, Inira and Dekar. I told him of our meeting Hasim, how his wife had been murdered, and his baby barely clinging onto life when we met. How Grimaldus had healed the child and dedicated him to his dead god, before Secilia’s summoned guardian, Uriel, took the baby away for safekeeping. I told him of meeting Rowan, and how she was able to heal the trees, and took the myconid child under her wing.
 
I told him of Alfarid and our desperate teleportation to Wei Jang, a city where the guards were undead and the exquisite beauty was a thin veneer over a hive of corruption. Ravlor was unsurprised by that, but he has never been overly fond of cities… and when compared to the peaceful solitude of his cabin, I cannot say I disagree. I told him of meeting the axiomyte, and of our conversations… what he revealed about Filandrel, and our people’s history – including the near genocide for our blood to fight the dragons.
 
I filled him in on the details of our journey to Loec, and our infiltration of the undead city. He was bothered by that, as to be expected – for I hadn’t wanted to be there either, but explained that I wasn’t going to let my friends go to their deaths when I was the best chance they had of being able to get out alive… teleportation and all.
 
When dinner was over, we went outside and continued our conversation. The silences were comfortable, with Ravlor playing quiet melodies on his flute like he used to. Eventually, my account circled back around to Rowan, and Filandrel. I shook my head sadly. He was sympathetic, but Ravlor had never actually met Rowan.
 
“She was the most genuinely good person I’ve ever met…” I said, the same feeling of helplessness that I felt when trapped in the force cage bleeding into my voice. “I don’t even know why she was friends with any of us…” And there it was… the crux of the issue that I was trying to come to terms with… I didn’t deserve her friendship, none of us did… and none of us deserved her sacrifice either.
 
“That is often the case with the best people in our lives.” Ravlor said gently.
“But she was so good.” I shook my head, looking at him helplessly. “Ravlor… she felt bad for the ghoul babies when they died…” I shook my head again, fighting back a fresh wave of tears. “I’ve killed children…”
 
“Our lives have forced us to do… many things that we have to live with…” Ravlor said, his unwavering gaze my lifeline as I pulled myself together.
 
“I know. But have you thought that maybe we should just refuse?” I asked. “Rowan freed all of the dragons from under the trees, and healed the great trees… and she managed to do so without killing anyone else in the end… just herself…”
 
He nodded. “I’ve been considering taking some time with Doodles, reconsider a few things.”
 
We sat in silence for a time, before I finished my tale. I told him of how the dragon just disappeared into thin air after Rowan vanished, and how the desiccated husk of a great tree immediately sprouted as life poured into the region. I told him of the celebration, which hadn’t felt very celebratory to me, in light of Filandrel and Rowan. I had gotten drunk on dwarven ale with the forces from Fort Mahogany. I told him that everyone was celebrating and seemed so happy, Grimaldus proposed, but even with the bits of happy, I couldn’t think of anything but Filandrel, his betrayal, and that his body was laying a short distance away, waiting for me to return it to Alcarin. I had felt like I was floating in a void, completely disconnected from everything and everyone around me.
 
“So, you’re getting married?” Ravlor asked, his expression shuttered.
“Grimaldus asked me.” I replied.
“Congratulations.” Ravlor forced a smile. “It’s good to find happiness. After everything you’ve been through, you should pursue what your heart asks of you.” He stood abruptly, without his usual grace. “It’s getting late. You should return before he begins to worry.”
What? It’s not even that late… When I opened my mouth to speak, Ravlor grabbed my shoulder, shaking his head. "Don't." He then briefly grasped my hand before turning and walking away. “Until next time, my friend.”
 
“What?” I snapped, confused as to why he cut me off so abruptly. He’s never done that before…
 
“Doodles and I will be around for a while.” He said over his shoulder without turning around. “Come and visit whenever you like.” With that, Ravlor disappeared into his cabin, the false smile still plastered on his face.
 
I stood up and followed him back to the cabin. I still needed to get my journals, besides, Ravlor doesn’t get to just walk away from me like that, without even talking about what’s wrong.
“Forget something?” Doodles asked as he opened the door.
“Ravlor!” I snapped, ignoring Doodles as I brushed past him into the cabin.
Ravlor glanced up from where he was stoking the fire. “Yes?”
“What’s the matter?” I demanded, my voice rising. “I’m trying to do what you told me to do in Crassard… and now, I feel like no matter what I ever do, it’s always the wrong fucking thing!”
 
“You’re doing what is best for you, but for my own sake, I need to do what’s best for me. Do you understand?” Ravlor’s voice was shaky, and he continued to stoke the fire. “We can talk again soon. Doodles, make sure she gets home safe.”
 
“What are you saying?” I asked quietly, completely at a loss.
 
Ravlor didn’t reply, and didn’t look at me, his gaze locked onto the fireplace. It was like he slammed a wall of force between us and I didn’t know what to do.
 
Doodles brought me my journals and I glanced over my shoulder at Ravlor, who was still completely focused on his task. “Thanks for dinner.” I said as I allowed Doodles to walk me out.
As soon as the door latched behind me, I crumbled. I felt like I’d just be stabbed in the heart, and couldn’t stop my tears from wracking my body. I don’t know how long I stood there, probably only a few minutes, before Doodles came outside with Meriwald. Meriwald landed on my shoulder and buried his head in my hair, for once not voicing an opinion.
 
“What’s his problem?” I asked Doodles, jerking my head back toward the cabin, keeping my face turned away from the goblin so he wouldn’t see my tears.
“He loves you, you know? A fucking lot.” Doodles said, sounding somewhat defensive. “Even I can see that shit.”
“Then why the hell did he tell me to leave with Grimaldus?” I shot back, turning to look at Doodles. “Why didn’t he ever say anything? The only thing he ever said about it was to tell me to go east with Grimaldus and the others, and then refuse to come too when I asked…”
 
“Don’t ask me, he’s a complicated guy.” Doodles shrugged, then peered at me intently for a split second. “Aw shit… you’re crying… umm…” he reached out and wrapped his arms around my legs in a hug.
“He should have said something…” I sniffed. “Anything…”
Doodles shrugged, and said goodbye, waving as he walked back to the cabin.
 
I stood there for a full minute, part of me desperately wanting to storm back into the cabin and demand that Ravlor talk to me… but I can’t do that to him. If he’s not wanting to talk to me, who am I to force the issue? He never forced me to talk when I didn’t want to… no, I need to give him some time, it’s the least I can do for him. So, I wiped my tears and teleported home.
 
It was late into the evening when I slipped into the house. Grimaldus was already asleep, and I could hear the quiet murmurings of my parents’ late night conversation. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, and I wasn’t in the mood for questions, so I took my journal and slipped into my bedroom. And here I sit, in the window of my childhood room, gazing out at the waning moonlight filtering through the trees. Silent tears slip down my face as I let my mind wander through the past century of my memories. Filandrel… Elwing, Morwen and the other friends I lost in the war… Garrick… Dekar… Damian… Rowan… Inira… the axiomyte... Filandrel… and now even Ravlor is refusing to talk to me.
 
How much more of this can I handle? What is the threshold that I can take before my mind cracks under the pressure? What about what Doodles said? If Ravlor loves me, and has loved me… then why did he never say anything? I glance over to where Grimaldus is quietly snoring in the corner, and feel as though my heart is slowly being torn in two…