Dragoncrest Cliffs On pathway to the stars

Njord heard Eadwulf’s alarm across Dragoncrest and made haste towards the beach. When we arrived, the young man and their goldspun captain stood over a misshapen form – sunken in and waterlogged like most things that washed ashore. As he trotted closer he could see the twist in the Erzulie’s features… the way the Beryl craned his neck in despair, pressing against the queen in comfort… and the messy red fur of the flotsam.

Immediately Njord’s stomach sunk to the floor and a nauseating punch of adrenaline made his head spin. Njord stopped dead in his tracks – not wanting to believe the scene he happened upon – until the smallest shift of Eadwulf revealed Merlin’s freckled face in the sand.

“Merlin!!” Njord rushed up besides Eadwulf and Erzulie, eyes racking to try and grasp what force had taken their zesty friend before his time. He held his breath… hoping to see some response of life… but it was very clear that any spark had left the body.

His mouth felt dry, brain flatlined as comprehension eluded the islander. Next came the crushing grief… even greater than when Rosencrantz had passed. His blue eyes flicked up to Erzulie and then to Eadwulf as if to ask how this could possibly be… but the sadness in the queen’s eyes made his lip stiffen. If Eadwulf was to move the body then he would aid as a reticent pallbearer while quietly reflecting on the many special moments he had shared with Merlin.