The dead are but lonely travelers
Words: 199
Warning: None
Author's note: This scene nearly happened in my DnD campaign (which stopped and my DM explained the plot because we were sad about the ending).
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The face Lory sees is something familiar yet incomprehensible for him to translate. Green scales, strong maw, kind amber eyes, Helasar was standing right in front of him, and at the same time, wasn't. Fragment of imagination. Lie in an intricate reflecting glass, a gift from the Traveler, his god, a trickster. At first, Lory thought it was for a good deed he'd done that he received such a gift. Now, he wasn't too sure. No, that reflection was standing right before him, tall and smiling at him, their eyes about at the same level. And so, he asked.
Lory's brain was too slow to stop his mouth before the sounds escaped him. "Serein?" The Dragonborn before the party nods, his smile turns perplexed, and the rest of Lory's party turns to look at him.
"You know him?" Content asks. Lory takes a second, but the green Dragonborn before them who speaks first.
"I think you thought I was someone else."
And Lory's heart soars, for his god was right. The dead are only just travellers, but his dead is not who he was before. And the copper Dragonborn smiles at the green one. "It seems so, my apologies."
