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PW Chapter 26: Goodbyes are Difficult
🕑 Added 2025-06-03 07:36:19 +0000 UTCAstrid groaned as she sat up off the three blankets she’d been provided as a sleeping mattress. Though better than nothing, they’d been far from the full mattress she had upstairs. Her body was stiff, even with Quick Recovery working overnight for her. There were some things that Skills and heightened attributes still couldn’t fix. Muscle soreness seemed to be one of them, if it was as severe as what came from a panicked day spent fighting for her life and channeling a talisman that doubled her attributes.
“Here.” A familiar voice spoke to her as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Stark loomed over her, a bowl with fresh red meat and boiled barley in it. Astrid yawned widely as she met his eyes.
“You get home early this morning?”
Grom’s right hand nodded in response. “I heard we had a third party en route last night. Didn’t think we needed me to keep rushing around after that.”
He deliberately didn’t mention the name of the party, and Astrid decided not to air out the Golden Fist’s presence without anyone’s approval. After all, if nobody was whispering about it, then there wasn’t any reason for her to anger the nearly godlike beings that slew dragons, hydras, giants, and more monsters she’d never learned about. Instead, Astrid took the offered bowl and nodded her thanks.
“I met their leader last night when I was cleaning my armor. I’m sure they have everything well in hand. Are they sticking around?”
Stark’s eyebrow climbed higher. “They are for a while. A couple days. By then, the surge will still be going on, but news will have travelled further, and more Irons will show up.”
Astrid sighed in relief. Then, in a quieter voice, she asked, “Do you know if I could get advice from some of them? They have experience I won’t.”
She didn’t say the full extent of her feelings on that, and Stark cracked a small smile. “If they want to talk with you, they will. We can’t really dictate what they do. They did bring every corpse back here overnight, so at high noon, we’ll be dealing with that.”
The distance she’d managed to establish between herself and the horrors of the day before was torn away with those words. The reminder of Petr’s face, of the fear he’d died with. How her own weakness and lack of practice with the most basic of mana manipulation had contributed to that… the meat she’d been ready to relish tasted like ash in her mouth.
“What… What are we going to do with the civilian bodies?”
“Whatever their families want.” Stark shrugged. “Most prefer to bury their dead, have something to remind them of their . Delvers burn the bodies. We’ve spent long enough below, in the earth. We deserve freedom after we’ve paid the ultimate price. If you disagree, then you can tell Grom or myself, and we’ll record that with the Guild. Delvers, selfish, foolish, and childish as we are, still sacrifice ourselves. Regardless of everything else, everyone who died in the hopes of creating a safer, better world for those behind them deserves to have their corpse treated with respect.”
“If I change my mind, I’ll say as much.” Astrid said, her stomach turning. The thought of her own body ripped to pieces by wargs, smashed by a troll, or even eaten by one of the barbaric Dungeon races… her parents didn’t deserve to see that. “I’ll stick with the delver way. News is sent to next of kin?”
“Of course. That’s all stuff that Grom took care of on the first day.”
Astrid nodded. When she didn’t immediately tuck into the food, Stark spoke again. “Eat. Treat it as a command from a superior.”
“Yes, sir.” Astrid tried to smile, but she couldn’t. She thought about who would have died if “her” whole party had been here. Would Ahna still be living? Or Liesl, Borus or Jan? Would she have survived with a party that almost certainly would still be level 1? She almost certainly couldn’t have killed that Boss without the extra 10 to her Power and Fortitude. How about if she were a Spellblade? A magically enhanced blade would have cut through the wargs’ skin much more easily than her hammer…
She couldn’t keep her mind from pondering every way things would have changed as she forced herself to eat. Maybe for the first time, Astrid was grateful that her plans for the future hadn’t come true. Sure, Borus was prig and Liesl’d left Astrid feeling like something even a goblin would try to eat, but they’d been friends for a decade, over half of her life. She didn’t want to watch their bodies on the pyre. Then, Jan. He was good to Ahna, and a kind man, if nothing else. And Ahna. Astrid might have left delving entirely if Ahna died just a couple weeks into this grand adventure.
With silent words of thanks to the Duchess, Astrid finished eating her meal and stood. The room was subdued, and she’d slept in. Those still trapped in the main room, which was most of the inhabitants of Schteld, were quiet and morose. Not that she could fault them at all. So much of what they knew and held dear was just… gone. Astrid took the bowl to the bar’s counter before going up to her room. At the door, she could hear quiet murmurs beyond the threshold, but she couldn’t understand any of the words spoken.
After knocking twice, she stepped back, but Moira’s voice immediately answered.
“That you, Astrid? Come in.”
She did so, and there she saw Guinevere, wiping a couple of tears from damp cheeks. The widowed Apothecary’s eyes were tired and bloodshot, but she held herself taller than the day before, where she’d looked broken. Instead, she was just exhausted.
“Thanks for your room, Astrid.” Moira said as she walked forward and wrapped the much taller woman in a quick but tight hug. “It made a difference for us both last night.”
Astrid shrugged helplessly, but before she could apologize or beg for forgiveness for her failings, Guinevere stood up.
“No. We’re not having that. You said that this room was your final apology. You don’t apologize for giving me…” her voice choked for a second before she gathered herself. “You don’t apologize for giving me Bertrand’s final moments. Never again. Other than his life, that was the most precious gift you could give me, and as a woman nearly a decade younger than me, you did something nobody else could or would.”
Guinevere reached up to set her hands on Astrid’s cheeks and couldn’t reach. With tears welling in her eyes, Astrid bent down enough to allow it to happen. Once Astrid’s face was firmly in Guinevere’s hands, the smaller woman shook the Warrior just enough to make sure she was paying attention.
“Thank you. Now, let’s not talk about that.”
“Ok.” Astrid nodded and stood, pulling herself out of Guinevere’s grasp. “I was going to ask if there was anything you needed from me. Was thinking I would get changed and check my armor for any damage in the light of day before…” She trailed off.
“Before the funeral, yes.” Guinevere nodded.
“But you said let’s not—”
“About your apologies.” Guinevere forced a small laugh. “I don’t want to have you apologize about that. But for his funeral, I’ll bury him in our garden, so long as I’m allowed to in the next day or so. I’d love to have you there, if you’re willing.”
“Of course.” Astrid agreed easily. “If you need my physical labor as well, I can offer it—”
“No. I’ll dig it entirely myself. The last labor of love for a life I loved.”
“Alright. I’ll be there.” Astrid offered.
“And anyone else you care to invite.” Moira chimed in.
“Thank you both.” Guinevere nodded. “Now, I need to move or I’ll become a plant that manages to water itself with its tears. Come, you two. Let’s get some light.”
With that, Guinevere strode from the room and down the stairs. Moira followed behind her and shrugged to Astrid. In the main room, Astrid sat beside Guinevere where she herself had just eaten her own meal. When Stark brought a bowl for all three, raising his eyebrows in an unspoken command to Astrid, she merely nodded in acceptance and set about forcing herself to eat. It felt like a betrayal that she felt better eating when she’d failed to—
Since she now had two people to speak with, Astrid could much more easily pull herself out of her spiraling, and instead talked about small things, like fixing homes, maintaining supply lines, and changes to the Dungeon entrance that served as half the revenue in the small town. Once the meal was over, Astrid carried the bowls to the bar, but before she could go to collect her armor and work on that, Grom called for attention. She retreated back to the table to listen as he explained what was happening and what was going to change.
“Thank you all for being orderly, patient, and kind after this failure on the part of the Delving Guild. There are things that were beyond our control, but that isn’t what you want to hear about. Instead, you care about what’s going to happen from here on out, and I’m hoping to be able to provide some illumination on that front.
“We have three full, named parties in the spawning zone, and they have it fully under control. Anyone who wishes to leave the town can do so at their convenience, and they can have the full surety from a promise made by a party more than a tier higher than the monsters around here that the forest is safe. If you are a delver who has decided to leave, please see me or Stark before you go, so that we have records of your presence and reason for departure. Of course, if you wish to leave without doing so, and you know the general consequences of so doing.
“On another, more somber note, we have collected the bodies of delver and civilian. The parties in the forest have done their best to mitigate further damage, but the monsters have… been monstrous in their treatment of the dead. I have personally verified the identities of each corpse, and I will approach their next of kin to offer my personal condolences as well as the option to see and verify the corpse for themselves, if they so desire. Delver funeral rites are offered to anyone who wants it, and assistance from me personally is available for any other rites that need to be completed.
“Of course, the Guild will provide the weregild your families deserve, so do not worry on that account. If you have further questions, please ask me at the time that I approach you. If I do not approach you but you have a family member who is currently not accounted for, please let me know after I have announced that I have spoken with everyone. We can see what we can work out from there, and maybe consult with one of our powerful visitors about their whereabouts.”
Grom continued to speak about some of the pressing issues in the town, such as sources for food and additional labor as necessary, but it wasn’t long before he stepped back from addressing the whole of the inn with a brief nod and a “Thank you.”
“He’s a good man in a difficult situation.” Guinevere said with a sigh. “I don’t envy him.”
Astrid let her mouth hang open. Moira wasn’t nearly so speechless.
“You don’t blame him?”
“And what good would it do? I know Grom for the reasonable man he is, and he’d never wish harm on any of us.” Guinevere sighed. “Now, I’d like to go home. If one of you would carry Bertrand with you, I’d appreciate it. I need to save my strength for digging the grave itself.”
Astrid gathered the stiff corpse in her hands, holding it as reverently as she could manage. With her attributes, it wasn’t too difficult to carry Bertrand’s remains, and it served as her ultimate penance. Had Guinevere thought about it, Astrid suspected the other woman would have realized that Astrid thought as much, but she was obviously too distraught to think about others in this moment.
“She’s always been this way.” Moira whispered. “Patient and kind to a fault, but too quick to allow herself to get the short stick. Willing to be the person that suffers the most.”
“Nothing we can do…?” Astrid half said in defeat and half hoped for some magical solution she knew wasn’t coming. Of course, Moira shrugged in defeat. Astrid wasn’t surprised, given the stoicism her friend was forcing herself to display. But why would she push her to confront something she was already suffering in?
Before long, they stood outside the Apothecary. Bertrand and Guinevere’s home was the second floor, and Guinevere gestured for Astrid to bring him into the shop. In the back, she quickly cleared off a table covered with scraps from a dozen different plants and, at the woman’s prodding, Astrid deposited the corpse. There, Guinevere stripped his shirt, exposing the puckered scars Astrid’s potion had been unable to heal completely. Guinevere took a cloth, wetted it, and then set to cleaning every wound and, especially, Bertrand’s face. Before long, it was clean, and she smiled in a soft, pained way. Although it was clean, she continued cleaning his face, again and again, as if there were minute motes of dust that refused to leave.
Astrid and Moira just watched, until, after a couple minutes of repeated ministrations, Guinevere walked out the back of the store. There, a modest garden grew, where several vegetables Astrid recognized as well as a couple dozen plants she knew nothing about sprouted. Guinevere didn’t take any time to decide where the hole would be–she already knew. With practiced movement, she plunged the shovel into the dirt again and again. The well-tilled and tended dirt gave way to her efforts, but it still took the slight woman nearly an hour to prepare her husband’s final resting place.
All the while, Astrid and Moira offered drinks and support however and whenever they could, to limited effect. Eventually, Guinevere stepped back.
“That’s enough. I would put him in myself, but I want him to be laid down gently. Astrid, Moira, would you help me?”
“Of course.” They answered in unison. The three of them managed to lay Bertrand in a seemingly comfortable position in his grave, and again, the tears returned.
“Astrid, would you say some words?” Guinevere asked. “It’s customary for those who were closest to speak last.”
Unable to say no, Astrid nodded as she stepped forward. “Bertrand was a kind man, one willing to listen to others. Willing to use his mind, and capable of showing his support for his wife and others. He… treated me well when others were only too willing to give in to the pressure of fear and hatred. He saved me from an even worse experience when I first came into town, being willing to listen to the words I was saying. I appreciated him, and I wish I’d had more time to get to know him.”
“Thank you.” Guinevere offered. Then, Moira stepped forward. She spoke of his easy smile and quick assistance, of Bertrand’s kindness and acceptance of those different from him. At last, as she spoke about how happy he’d made her best friend, she gave a quick goodbye and stepped back to allow the grieving widow to speak.
“I could talk about our long history. I could speak on the tired arguments and the old sorrows. I could speak of your support and love and kindness and it wouldn’t be enough. Instead, I’ll merely remember your final words. I’m here. I wish you could say that again and again, for decades to come. I wish you’d stayed home and I hadn’t asked you for help. I wish you weren’t quite so selfless and quite so eager to please. I wish… I wish you were here, my love. But you were here for your final moments, and I’ll remember you as you always were, here, for me. Rest well in the embrace of the Duchess. I’ll see you in the next life, and I’m sure you’ll say the same thing. I’m here.”
With dignified tears streaking her face, Guinevere threw the first fistful of dirt into the hole. Her barely constrained tears morphed to wracking sobs, and she stepped back, allowing the other two to complete the burial. When Astrid was finished, she poked her head into the back room of the store, where Guinevere sat with her head in her hands. Her shoulders shook silently, and Astrid left the poor woman to her grief. Without another word, she retreated from the home and whispered to Moira, “Will you stay?”
“Of course. I know you have another to attend.”
“Thanks. I’ll be back in the next couple of days. At the latest, tomorrow.”
“Just let me know.” Moira nodded before pulling AStrid into another embrace. “We both really appreciate everything you’ve done and are doing.”
“I just wish—”
“Same thing that Guinevere has said. Don’t apologize. Just… be here when you can.”
Astrid nodded and walked away, her steps heavy. As she walked, a pillar of smoke burst into being near the inn, and she rushed there, just in time to hear Grom speaking.
“Delvers enter the Dungeon knowing that death is imminent. Even so, we continue. Delvers fight monsters, knowing the cost of failure, not just for us, buf for those who stand behind our shields. Allies, friends, family, and more depend on our survival and success. They don’t often count the cost of our sacrifice. I see you, and I see our friends. I respect you, and I thank you for your service. May your souls be brought into the next life, where the strength of your bodies is only limited by the valor of your hearts. As such, may you remain ever undefeatable. My friends, find peace, find strength, and find victory. Rest well, and know we remember you, and carry your souls with us to battle.”
Then, as Grom raised his hand, the flames in the pyre swelled higher and higher, and though the smell of burning wood and flesh turned her stomach, Astrid watched the bodies as they were reduced to tiny fragments. Then, as she breathed heavily, she decided what she needed to do next.
Comments
No_Creative_Name
Breatsted boobily down the stairs haha. Google docs, why do you betray me like this? Editing now.
Mel
Final paragraph- should “breasted heavily” be “breathed heavily “? Love Astrid and her story.
No_Creative_Name
I sometimes miss those updates. Fixed now.
Nicole Cloud
It's rather odd that $6 can read chapters 25 & 27 but not 26. Was planning to upgrade to $10 anyway, but thought I'd say something XD
