Dragoncrest Cliffs On pathway to the stars

They laid him on the sandy soil of the cliffside, adjacent to the graves of their old kin. Njord’s sad eyes drifted from Merlin’s silent corpse to the mound where Rosencrantz laid… and then to Kaertok, and besides him: Raleska. They had place three small mounds of stone to mark their final resting places… but by now, with summer’s renewal, tall grass and moss obscured them.

Lost in a sea of feelings, Njord almost didn’t hear Eadwulf’s soft and somber voice. I told him a story of one who became a bright star. I like to hope he is one now, too, the larger man said (the Beryl’s skeletal markings made him look especially grim). It was a romantic and whimsical thought – one Njord couldn’t quite believe. Despite this, he would not discourage Eadwulf’s hopeful thinking.

“Aye… we can only hope we all become stars in tha end. The dark earth… that’s ‘ardly a place for a wolf to sleep forever.” A sigh hissed between the seafarer’s teeth, defeated but hoping Merlin had not suffered long before his demise. “We’ve lost others before,” Njord explained, motioning to the  headstones. “A bear.”

He began, with a great mental effort, to excavate the soil. “Merlin… ‘e was one of tha good ones. My friend. My ally. I convinced ‘im ta join Sapphique…” his mind wandered and considered that, maybe, he was the reason for the red head’s premature death.