Story: "Anything is Possible. Always."
10 JUN 2014
The wiry Breton peered nervously into the darkness, his anxious eyes flitting from shadow to spindly shadow. “But what if there are Daedra out there?”
The small campfire crackled, spitting an unruly ember an arm’s distance - as if it were trying to escape. It tumbled harmlessly onto the raked earth that Bran had carefully cleared.
“There aren’t any Daedra out there”, he assured flatly, stopping short of invoking Stendarr’s name.
That wouldn't have inspired much confidence.
“How do you know?”, Rees challenged. “Times ‘ave changed! Daedra can jus’ pop up these days. Any-where! Any-TIME!”
Bran opened a tired eye and looked at the lad squarely. The boy seemed to wither slightly beneath his gaze, as if realizing that some invisible line had been crossed.
Rees grew quiet, and stared at his feet. The “soul burst” might have sundered the Mundus, but it barely blemished the lines between the Breton classes...
…or their grim determination to change whatever fate they might have been dealt.
Anything was possible. Always.
Bran smiled and reached out to grasp the young man’s shoulder. “We’ll be fine, Rees.” He assuaged. “We’ll strike camp at dawn and be in Wind Keep by midday. I bet Aurelie will already have a kettle of stew on the hearth. ” Rees looked down to the Battaglir and thin broth congealing in his bowl. “Can you taste it now?” the knight asked.
Rees nodded, a little less frightened than he was before. “You’ve a kind soul, sir”, he said, lifting a small, wooden spoon to his mouth.
Bran looked out into the darkness.
“Once, perhaps”, he thought to himself.
He grit his teeth.
“…and some day, I’ll get it back.”