im thinking about professor widogast, in a tweed coat with patched elbows, grading papers with a cat on his lap, his door always open to any student who needs it.
about a living room cluttered with books and paper and all manner of components, two wizards passed out on top of each other on an old sofa after finally cracking that one arcane equation.
about essek’s disguises subtly showing age, mirroring caleb’s, so they can still walk together arm in arm through the city.
I’m thinking about a ship’s wedding, tables piled high with sweets, and orly officiating. A green cloaked figure appears in the back, and later guests argue over whether it was really there at all.
about the home for orphans they build in nicodranas, which takes in, loves, and protects every child who comes through its doors, so none of them ever feel disposable.
about how the stories of captain tusktooth spread, and turn to legend, and every version includes the blue skinned she-devil who loved and fought by his side.
im thinking about a new baby on Veth’s hip, dark skinned and curly haired, and the proud, frantic message to Caleb after Yeza walks in on her magically making the flame of a candle dance.
about a family apothecary, underneath a large apartment, which almost blows up about once a week until someone (Yeza) decides they need somewhere else for their experiments, and they invest in a warehouse down by the docks.
about Grandma Veth in a rocking chair, brown braids now grey, delighting small children with exciting, gory tales of daring adventure, which she will tell at any opportunity.
im thinking about a cottage somewhere beautiful, which always smells like fresh baking because Yasha is learning. Before too long, her bugcakes become legend for miles around.
about nights that arent so good, when Beau comes home late after a frustrating day or Yasha wakes from a nightmare, breathing heavy, and how one of them will hold the other close until they wake in the morning to a new day that doesn’t feel nearly as hopeless, because they know they have eachother.
about a wedding in the blooming grove officiated by caduceus, and decorated in wildflowers. As soon as the ceremony ends, the sky goes grey, and everyone runs inside except for the brides, who stand kissing in the pouring rain.
im thinking about a caduceus who spends his days doing what he loves the most, tending the earth and occasionally exploring the world, splitting time between his two families.
about an old pirate king who ventures inland as he feels himself dying, asking the Clays if he can be buried in the blooming grove, because he trusts them not to let anyone mess with his body, and, besides, he wants to be buried among friends.
about the graves that slowly fill, each in their time. Generations of Clays know to keep the ninth one empty until, centuries later, an old elf takes his place.
i’m thinking about the Nein, the Nine, and how their journey all together may have come to a close, but the rest of their lives are still to come, and those lives are bright.
i’m thinking about how each of them, in their own ways, will leave the world better than they found it.
