Taliesor's Gift

Valasar picked up the sobbing young person. Together they rushed for the stairs, large chunks of debris shattering from the ceiling, the floor buckling beneath their feet like the deck of a sinking ship.

Valasar heard strange, cryptic incantations behind him and turned, scales hackled. Their stood the Necromancer, glowing with unearthly light and looking nearly solid. He clapped his hands together, and light darkness whispered towards them, wrapping them in its tendrils. Valasar suddenly felt light, their was a rushing feeling of movement, and-

They were someplace else. It was a great, octagonal chamber. Woods with gold and green leaves glinting in the last rays of the sun shed soft light. Birds chirped and he could hear the hum of insects all around them. Golden strands of grass rose to Valasar's hip. He was there, with the wounded soldier, with Sorn and Quinten, the twins, Heljah, Sorn's creature... and three others.

Their in front of them stood the Taliesor, and his granddaughter, and the soldier who had stood with them against Ireselan. He was smiling.

Tomas rushed to Valasar, who gently let his burden sit to the floor. The deceased put his ghostly arms around the younger wounded soldier, and together they cried and spoke. Valasar padded silently away, to give them some privacy.

Taliesor stepped forward, addressing Quinten. "I'm sorry I put you all through this, but I thank you. On behalf of our entire village, I thank you." He gave a heavy sigh. "We'd been stuck there, like that, for much too long. When you and your companions traversed the Gray World and broke the scepter, you freed us from our curse."

Quinten, wincing, nodded his head. "Where is this place?" He asked curtly.

Taliesor smiled, "I may have originally been a necromancer, but portal-magic was always a hobby of mine. I thought, after everything, the least I could do is get you and your friends out of danger. We are at the base of the mountains, and a days' journey should get you to the nearest city. I'm sorry I could not put you closer." Taliesor pulled out a scroll. "My work will be destroyed along with the rest of the town, but... if you would take this to an old friend of mine?"

Quinten took the scroll with a shrug.

Taliesor nodded. "I'm sorry I have nothing of more value, after all the trouble I've caused, to give you."

The little girl tugged on Valasar's tail, and he turned to her, kneeling down. "I enjoyed your warmth, little one." He said formally. "Go in peace to your ancestors."

She giggled, and put her small arms around his neck. Valasar was surprised to feel quite warm, solid arms, before she ran back to her grandfather.

Taliesor called to the dead young soldier, "It is time for us to go." Nodding, he gave one last fierce hug to his sibling and stepped away. Slowly, light enveloped the three spirits, until they were too bright to look at. Valasar shielded his eyes, and when he looked again, they were gone.