Fate of Thorik

It had been a long quiet journey back across Lake Luthralum as Grewen paddled the boat up King’s River, past Longfield and to Farbank. As they approached the village, they could see several children playing along the shore while others fished from the docks, wrapped in warm blankets. Men and women were busy working as they finalized their preparations for winter.

  All of the trees had lost their leaves and the few remaining had already turned brown from the freezing night temperatures. The fallen leaves had been cleaned off the roofs and raked out of the streets. Everything was neat and tidy.

  The children cheered with excitement as they saw the giant Mognin moving the boat toward the dock carrying Avanda, Thorik, Gluic, and Brimmelle. The adults were more apprehensive about the sight of the giant but came down to the dock all the same to welcome the traveler’s home.

  Reaching the dock, Grewen held the boat steady as the Nums exited. It took several adults to keep the vessel balanced while Grewen vacated the rowboat without tipping it over. When he did, he stood up to full height to stretch his back.

  The short Nums backed up at the sight of Grewen’s enormous body. Fearing the giant, many of the villagers sunk deeper into their winter coats as they witnessed the odd sight.

  One of the men shouted out, “Brimmelle, what is this creature you have returned with?”

  Brimmelle raised his hands to calm everyone down. “This is a Mognin, one of the Ov’Unday of the southern valleys.” He looked up at the Altered Creature who he once feared. “You will address him as Grewen. He is our trusted friend.”

  These were strong words for Brimmelle. He rarely used the words “trusted friend” even among Nums in his village. In fact, no one in the village considered him as a friend, only as a Fir. A friend would put him at an equal level, which he would have never before accepted.

  Avanda’s parents ran down the slight slope to the river, arms stretched out as they saw her. Avanda met them halfway, jumping up into their arms and disappeared into their thick wooly coats. The three hugged tight.

  Wess’ brothers walked over to Brimmelle. The eldest, Hyphry, asked the Fir, “Where’s Wess?”

  Brimmelle’s face and eyes lowered as his hands locked together behind his back. A moment later he straightened his body up and looked at the three brothers. “I’m sorry to say that he didn’t make it. Wess passed away during our journey.”

  Those in hearing distance quieted down to listen to Hyphry. “How did he die? Why didn’t you save him?”

  Brimmelle’s eyes shifted back and forth searching for a way out of this uncomfortable public scene. “Perhaps we should refer to the Rune Scrolls for guidance during these difficult times.”

  “No,” Hyphry said. “You asked him to go with you. It was your responsibility. How could you let him die?”

  Thorik stepped in, “Brimmelle didn’t let him die. Wess was a hero.”

  “A hero? Our brother?” Hyphry asked in surprise.

  Thorik replied, “Yes, without a doubt. He fought off thrashers and living stone statues. He saved us from freezing to death in the mountains and helped us save all human and Num life from a tidal wave of death.”

  Thorik watched as everyone listened in awe to the tale. “Along our journey we discovered that a plot was unfolding to destroy all our lands. We traveled far to the south to stop it from happening. When we arrived, we were attacked and Avanda would have been killed if it weren’t for Wess. He sacrificed his life to save hers. Your brother should be remembered as a hero.”

  Wess’ brothers smiled at Thorik’s words. “I knew he had it in him,” one said as they gave each other hugs and patted each other on the back. Grief would continue, but at least now it was with respect and honor of the tasks Wess had accomplished.

  Thorik nodded with a sense of comfort at the sight of the brother’s reaction.

  Several women, meanwhile, asked Gluic how she was holding up after such a long trek. She dismissed the questions and instead opened a sack to show them. “They have some wonderful stones in Pelonthal.” Politely they looked, but were not impressed as she continued to show them off.

  Thorik was greeted by many and he returned the sentiment back. “It’s good to be home.” A sense of peace came over him, which he had not felt in a long time. He inhaled the comfort and easiness of the surroundings that he grew up with.

  “We will throw a grand party for your return,” Sorla shouted to the crowd who cheered at the idea of it.

  Thorik hadn’t seen Sorla since the Harvest Festival, when she congratulated her husband Trumette for winning the foot race. She was always trying to make everyone happy and always willing to throw a party for any occasion.

  “That is very nice but we will not be staying,” Thorik answered back. “We still have more to do to ensure your safety. The threat is still out there.”

  Sorla looked confused. “But you said you saved us already.”

  “We did, from one specific danger, but there will be more unless we are there to stop them from happening.”

  “You’ve done your part.” Sorla nodded to Thorik. “Come home and relax. Others will take over where you have left off.”

  Trumette pulled her back. “The battle is over, but the war remains to be won, my dear.”

  Grewen looked down at the frail old Num. “Well spoken.”

  Trumette looked over at Brimmelle. “Where do I sign up for our next mission?”

  Everyone chuckled at the idea before Brimmelle could respond. “I am not going on any more missions. I will be staying here to teach what I have recently learned,” he continued to address the shocked faces, knowing that they had never heard him speak of himself learning anything outside the words of the scrolls. “Thorik is the leader of this group. He knows what he’s doing and carries my full support.”

  Silence followed as the Nums tried to rationalize this new Brimmelle attitude. It was still authoritative but showed feelings and depth to his words that were never there before. It was a welcome change.

  “But we must have a party before you leave again,” Sorla again begged.

  “There is no time for that,” Thorik replied.

  Grewen reached down and patted Thorik on the back. “Enjoy the blessings before you. It is these memories that we are fighting to keep alive.”

  Thorik smiled at his enormous friend. “All right, one night of festivities and then we’re off.”

  Everyone rejoiced and left to set up the tents and tables.