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Bregoware
"I can understand why any of you may want to turn back and join those they care about. I will not stop you. But I will tell you that from now on we will need each and every one of us to carry out our task.”
Osmod's words sounded in Sythrics mind. He totally agreed with him. “Seeing all this, kind of leaves us no options. Our mission seems all the more urgent now. At least some of us have to continue.” Sythric glanced at everyone, with serious look. “I will be one of them, and follow you Osmod, whatever it takes.” He added, and then made Thydrë back up some steps. “The ferry is down there, behind the townhall. I suggest we get there and have some lunch, before crossing the river. I sure wouldn’t like to eat in the middle of this hollow town and all the awe it arouses in me.”
Sythric’s mind got agitated. All the towns he knew at this side of the river: Brechast, Hrunting, Scefing... All those sharing this same ill fate! It was just too much. How he had wandered at the streets of them as a young man, drinking ale with his friends, gotten an eye over a nice girl and all. That had been life. All that lost now! Like he could never get his youth back, he would never even get back those places of his youth. Heorogar’s tavern in Hrunting would be no more, no more than a cold and empty shelf, sheltering only wild dogs and other beasts of the wild. Just wind calling in every now and then. Or Daeghrefn’s inn at Scefing. Just memories, just memories now, with nothing to bring them alive again. And no-one to live those lives and those places anymore. Lost all, totally lost. Sythric was looking into a void. And all the people making for shelter that no-one knew, where it would be, the caravans of refugees as easy pray for any army big enough. Sythric turned away from the others to not show his tears bursting out violently.
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