#juan lyons

While writing his book, he spent a great deal of time in west among the Order of Orrir’Ullral. I’m told they’re a guild of beast hunters - and they provided Juan with regular work. The Orrir’Ullral live in a remote, unmapped part of the world and relied on Juan to help them categorize and navigate their lands. Farrador is an extremely long way away from Helena, over the mountains and through dense forests. I considered not attending the service, but I felt compelled to go in spite of the great distance. Juan was my best friend. If he’s watching from the Seven Skies, I want him to know I still care about him.

Icroth and I packed our things and traveled to Farrador together. Icroth is an old hand at camping in the wilderness, so he didn’t mind escorting me. I expected the journey to be unpleasant, but it really wasn’t so bad. The landscape around Farrador is beautiful to behold, full of dewy pines, proud boulders, and babbling brooks. We followed a river up into the mountains and, every morning, Icroth would catch us a fresh fish for breakfast. He’d lend me his knife and watch as I prepped, cleaned, seasoned, and cooked the fish over the campfire. When I asked him why he insisted on fishing - after all, we packed plenty of rations - he smiled at me. “I like to see a master of their craft do their work,” he said. “It’s graceful.”

I’ve never heard of anyone refer to cooking as graceful before. But I suppose after hundreds of years, I’ve become a very practiced hand. Some aspects of my work are more instinctual than conscious thought now. Back when I lived with Mr. Gyffard and the Black Fox Company, I once prepared a full-course meal while black-out drunk - and it was delicious. Or at least good enough to please a gaggle of intoxicated monster-hunters. I was a teetotaler much like Icroth before dear Mr. Gyffard got his hands on me. The only thing I really got out of that marriage was a drinking problem - one I’m still struggling to deal with.

After several days of travel through the wilderness, we arrived at last in Farrador. There, we met Celestine and her bodyguard Chirr. It’s been a while since I last saw Chirr, so it was nice to meet up again. Chirr’s another old ’ker. Not quite as old as me, but close. Her earliest memories date back to Anthos. Strange to think that I was a grown adult, married, when Chirr was just a child. Elven aging is… strange.

In Siramenor, I met three generations of elf - a grandmother, a father, and a son - and they all looked exactly the same age. I’m too used to Oren where old men become decrepit and grey haired.

Chirr kept looking at Icroth strangely as we stood in the fortress courtyard, waiting for the service to start. She stared at him with a furrowed brow, searching his face as if trying to place him.

“You seem familiar,” she said at last. “Have we met somewhere before?”

Icroth blinked, taken aback by the inquiry. “I… do not believe so,” he said. “Perhaps? From where do you hail?”

“Ah, the million-mark question,” Chirr joked.

But before she could say anything else, Vyasaldris - the mistress of Farrador and our hostess for the evening - announced the beginning of the ceremony. She requested we follow her out to the shores of the nearby lake, where they had erected a pyre in honor of Juan.

The Farradorian funeral rites are a good bit different from Canonism, but I found them very charming regardless. The memorial ceremony would have three parts. The first was a ritual burning; the second was a feast in Juan’s honor; and the third would include releasing paper lanterns at dusk. Vyasaldris presided over the burning ritual. She opened the ceremony with a moving tribute to Juan.

“Thank you to those whom spent the time to journey here,” she began, nodding toward Celestine. “Juan was a beloved friend and ally to us. While his departure left many of us grief-stricken, he would not want us to mourn. So, instead, let us celebrate the vibrant and fulfilling life he led.” She gestured to the pyre burning brightly on the lakeshore. “This flame is meant to symbolize Juan’s life, how it brought light and warmth to everything around it. Juan showed us that no matter how hard life can be, we must embrace every moment. Juan was a true adventurer. For him, each day was a chance to discover something wonderful. He showed us that even the old and tired can be made new again. What I remember most about Juan is his mischief, his zeal for life, his creativity, his passion, and his sincere belief in man’s fundamental goodness.” Vyasaldris looked back over the crowd. “Juan may be gone, but we still feel the warmth and love he gave to us."

At the sermon’s conclusion, Vyasaldris invited us to take a slip of paper and write down our favorite memory of Juan. I took a piece and stared at it for a long time. The blank page gazed back at me. I had so many memories of Juan - so many of them happy. How could I possibly pick one? My eyes wandered over to Celestine. Her head was bowed, her hand darting across the page as she wrote, her eyes glazed with a sheen of unshed tears. 

And suddenly the perfect memory dawned on me.

Juan sometimes hid his true feelings behind a mask of swagger. I remember the first time he really opened up to me. He and Celestine had been together for several months at that point and they were considering marriage. Celestine even introduced Juan to her mother. Juan’s life had begun to change in a profound way. He was in the midst of a transformation and he felt it. He used to be a freewheeling, free-loving adventurer without a care in the world. Now he had a woman who loved him and a growing burden of responsibility. He told me how much it scared him, to see his life take such a turn.

I have been married several times - both successfully and unsuccessfully. I’ve given my heart away more times than I can count. But I wouldn’t trade those experiences - both the good and the bad - for anything. It’s a wonderful and beautiful thing, to join your life together with the right person. A well-chosen spouse elevates you beyond your past self. You see yourself reflected in the eyes of your love. It sharpens you, bringing your flaws and strengths into greater clarity. You’re accountable to your partner, who not only wants you to become your best self but expects it. Requires it. There is perhaps greater freedom in independence, but one cannot become the best version of one’s self without seeing themselves through another’s eyes. Life is a dance - one that only becomes more intricate, more beautiful, more complex with a partner.

I told Juan as much. He and Celestine were perfect for each other - a match surely made in Heaven. Celestine feared a man would hold her back, but Juan loved freedom just as much as she did. He admired and respected her work. He would never demand she give it up for his sake. Their passions - travel, learning, exploration, adventure - fit together like hand in glove. They could only make each other better if they married. That was why I’d happily set my own feelings for Juan aside. I knew I couldn’t sharpen him the way Celestine could.

Juan would later tell me that he wouldn’t have proposed without my counsel. He wanted to, but his fear held him back. I was the one who eased those fears and pushed him in the right direction.

That’s the memory I wrote down on the scroll.

I tied mine into a lover’s knot before casting it into the fire.

Celestine threw her scroll into the fire after me. As she cast her missive into the flames, her stoic outer demeanor failed her. Tears spilled down her cheeks, reflecting orange in the firelight. Celestine has always tried to present herself as a strong woman, not prone to girlish feelings. As the tears began to fall, she turned away and walked swiftly into the woods. 

I moved to follow her, but Chirr put a hand to my chest and stopped me. “Give her a moment alone,” Chirr said to me quietly. “Even just coming here was hard for her.”

Out of respect for Celestine’s feelings, I did as Chirr said. Celestine didn’t return for the rest of the evening.

After the burning ceremony, we went back inside the fortress for a feast in Juan’s honor. Chirr, Icroth, and I sat together at the table. I have to admit, I felt a bit snubbed because Chirr and Icroth only talked to each other the entire dinner. I sat next to Icroth and he didn’t turn to speak to me once. I ate and drank in silence. Temptation got the better of me and I put away several glasses of wine. Chirr and the elven women of Farrador seemed… rather taken with Icroth. Vyasaldris’s sister kept smiling and laughing when he talked to her. And Chirr studied him with an avid interest the entire time.

Isn’t Icroth supposed to be courting me?

He’s a handsome man. He doesn’t look like any other Mali. He has a rugged, masculine edge - but with a gentlemanly core. I should be glad that other women admire my beau. After all, doesn’t that mean I have good taste? Even so, I am so old. I’m nearly twice Icroth’s age. And while I am reasonably pretty, I daresay I don’t compare to most elven women. The years have taken their toll on me. Chirr is so lovely. Her skin is so dark, it’s almost midnight black. A perfect shade of ebony obsidian. And her hair! Such perfect, snow-white ringlet curls! They bounce and shimmer with every movement of her head. She looks so fresh. Not to mention she’s a seasoned warrior and adventurer - someone who could assuredly keep pace with Icroth out in the field. But me? I’m more of a liability than anything else when dangerous situations arise.

But this is my flaw. I’m a jealous woman. I always have been. For example, Mr. Toov would often leave me for long stretches of time. Every time he left, my mind came alive with all kinds of torturous images. I pictured him cavorting with beautiful girls in detail, to the point where I made myself furious and sick with hypothetical situations of my own making. It got to the point where I wondered if I secretly wanted to be cuckolded. My mind created these scenarios compulsively, completely unbidden, with no basis in factual reality. Mr. Toov was always a loyal and devoted husband. Up until he departed on the Exodus, he only ever had eyes for me. I know he probably lost his mind with panic when he realized I wasn’t on board the ships to Aeldin. He remarried eventually, yes… but so did I. I can hardly hold that fact against him. Who knows how many years he spent trying to contact me? Trying to get back to Asulon to be with me? At least that’s what I think to comfort myself when I imagine him remarrying.

Chirr’s interactions with Icroth were probably completely innocent and I’m making up some fantasy scenario in my own head again. Even so… I’m mad that he never once talked to me the entire dinner. But maybe he was just eager to talk to someone else after traveling together for several days. Who can say. But we’re going together to Mary Lucille’s wedding soon. Hopefully he’ll be more attentive to me then.

After dinner, we returned to the lake where the pyre in Juan’s honor continued to burn. Vyasaldris and her people handed out paper lanterns to the crowd. “Our final rite in honor of Juan’s memory,” Vyasaldris said, “is lighting and releasing these paper lanterns. They symbolize the light that Juan brought into our lives. Just as his light touched all of us, may these little lights journey forth and bring the warm glow of Juan’s memory to others.”

I took two lanterns - one for me and one for Celestine. I think she and I will light it and send it off later by ourselves. I want her to be able to participate in the rituals too, even if she left early. I lit my lantern and said a prayer for Juan as it lifted off into the sky. It’s my hope that the lanterns will find him somewhere in the Seven Skies and remind him how much we all loved him. We had a moment of silence as we watched the lanterns disappear above the trees, growing smaller and smaller in the darkening sky. With that, the memorial service concluded and the guests dispersed.

Icroth noticed how quiet I was as we walked back to our camp. “You’re upset,” he said. “Did you dislike the service?”

“No, it was lovely,” I replied. “A good send off for a good friend.”

“You’re missing Juan, then,” Icroth theorized.

“Of course, but…” I trailed off.

“But what?”

I didn’t want to tell him the real reason why I was upset. It seemed so petty. How would I sound to him? I’m angry at you because you spent the whole evening talking to Chirr and barely said a word to me. By God, I’m five hundred years old. Jealousy like that is juvenile. I’d expect that kind of behavior from a fifteen year old, not a five hundred year old.

“It’s nothing,” I said.

He scoffed. “I can’t stand when women say it’s nothing,” he replied. “That almost always means it’s something.”

We didn’t talk much more after that.

We returned to our campsite and I’m here writing now. Icroth is asleep on his bedroll and I’m up scribbling by candlelight. I’m trying to talk myself out of being jealous but it’s hard.

I’ve prayed so long for a Mali man to come and be my companion. Perhaps it’s foolish, but I ended up pinning those hopes on Icroth. I let myself be overeager. I want a soulmate. Is he my soulmate? It’s too early to say. Our relationship is still new.

When I introduce him to people, I still refer to him as ‘my friend Icroth.’

In my hands, I hold a banknote for ten thousand Imperial marks. Juan Lyons left this money to me in his will. I’m not sure why. I felt strange accepting it from Celestine earlier today. For some reason, he left Celestine and me the exact same amount - his life savings split equally between the two of us.

Celestine returned from her sabbatical today and I was glad to see her. She looked much refreshed from her time abroad. She dropped by the Dragon’s Rest today while I was sitting at the bar with Edward Napier, discussing proposed amendments to the citizenship laws. Celestine asked if she could meet with me when my shift was over. We made plans to meet at the museum. So I finished up my shift and my chat with Edward, then headed for the museum. (He seems exhausted – he was adding heaps of sugar to his tea trying to keep himself awake and kept nearly drifting off during our conversation. I wonder why he’s not sleeping well?)

I found Celestine at the museum, unpacking boxes of books and items. “Tanith, dear,” she said to me with a concerned furrow of the brow. “I couldn’t help but notice the eviction letter on the door outside on the door… Did I forget to pay taxes before I left?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” I said. “I had a little saved up from bartending, so I was able to cover it.”

Celestine’s eyes widened. “You paid our taxes with your own money?” She whipped around to face me. “Tanith! I am so sorry for putting you in that position! I’ll compensate you for your troubles, I promise.”

I waved off her concerns with a smile. “Oh goodness, no,” I laughed. “Please consider it my donation to the NGS. It doesn’t bother me one bit. The money was just sitting in my bank account anyway. I’m pleased to help a good cause.”

“Even so, I’m terribly sorry. In the aftermath of Juan’s death, I… suppose I forgot to attend to some of my affairs here before I left on sabbatical,” she said. “You’ll have to forgive me for that.”

At the mention of Juan, I saw her face fall. Although she was happy and smiling up until this point, I could see easily now how much the death still affected her. I put a hand on her shoulder and drew her at once into a hug. “You don’t have to apologize for a single thing,” I said. “I’m so happy to see you smiling again. I was worried about you, you know.”

Celestine seemed taken aback by my hug, but she nodded. “I… really am doing better,” she said. “I honestly think I am.”

“I know,” I replied. “But remember you don’t have to force it. And it’s perfectly all right if you’re still a bit out of sorts. I know Juan would have wanted me to look after you. So I don’t mind paying the taxes.”

“Ah, speaking of,” Celestine said, pulling away from me. “He left you something in his will, dearie. We’ll need to head by the bank later to fetch it.”

“What, money?” I said, lifting an eyebrow. “He left me money?”

Celestine flashed a mischievous grin and leaned in, lowering her voice. “Ten thousand marks.”

I was so stunned, I hardly knew what to say. “Ten… thousand what?” I stuttered. “That’s – what? My God! That’s – that’s so much! What would I even spend it on? I’ve never had that much money before in my entire life!”

“He left me the same amount,” Celestine replied. “Plus an additional ten for the NGS. And I intend to put it to use getting this museum up and running at last! Mark my words, this place will be open within the next Saint’s Week. Or… maybe two Saint’s Weeks.”

We went upstairs to the meeting room to discuss opening plans. I hated to admit it to Celestine, but I neglected work during the time that she was gone. I should have used that time for research and writing, but I couldn’t help feeling weighed down by grief at the loss of Juan. Celestine, though, bless her, forgave me immediately. “It’s difficult getting a museum operational,” she said. “The research and writing is no small feat! You’re doing fine. I wasn’t here to give you guidance, after all. I can’t expect you to do the whole thing by yourself.”

“Ah, it’s true that you’re an old hand at this by now,” I replied. “I’ll trust in you, then.”

We discussed what was still needed for the museum opening. “People are all whipped up in a patriotic fervor thanks to the Emperor declaring war on Sutica,” Celestine said. “We can use that to our favor. Patriotic people love history.” (It seems like Icroth and I won’t be visiting like we planned any time soon. Oh well. I’ll have to go see the beach some other time.)

Somehow or another, the conversation got onto politics - and then onto religion, family, travel, and too many other subjects to name. Celestine and I ended up talking for much longer than I expected, late into the evening. She told me a secret that I don’t want to write down for fear that someone might read my diary someday. It’s nothing illegal or scandalous, but it’s a personal and private matter that really isn’t for me to commentate on. But I was so flattered that she confided in me. Celestine really is such a lovely lady and I want very much to become a better friend to her.

Toward the end of the evening, she asked me a question. “Tanith,” she began hesitatingly. “I know you and Juan used to go out on trips together. He and I often went out exploring as well. It was such great fun… and I miss it, quite frankly. Would you be up for joining me on an adventure or two sometime?”

I was so surprised and delighted that she asked me. “Why, I would be honored!” I said. “There are so many places I’ve been meaning to go, but it’s no fun by myself. Like Fenn and Haelun’or and Sutica. I’ve spent so much of my life in Oren. And while I love Oren and Oren is my home, there is a whole wide world out there. I’ve recently been spending more time in Siramenor, for example…”

“Siramenor? I don’t think I’ve been there,” Celestine replied. “Wood elf country?”

To think, there’s a place that I’ve been that Celestine hasn’t! We made plans to go and visit Siramenor together. I told her I’d be glad to show her around. I mentioned to her that I’ve been wanting to get in touch with my elven heritage - to better understand where I come from and my place in the world. “I warn you, though,” I said. “The wood elves aren’t particularly fond of clothing.” And that made her laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, dearie. I’ve been doing studies on the orcs of Krugmar lately and, trust me, they’re no fans of clothing either. You know, if you really want to understand elven culture better,” Celestine suggested, “you could try to take my approach toward the examination of another culture. When I draft an ethnography, I do my best to socialize with the people about which I am writing the best that I possibly can. If I can, I try live among them and observe what their everyday life is like!”

“Oh dear, I’m not sure I can do that,” I replied. “They’re… very different from Oren.”

“It might take you out of your comfort zone,” Celestine replied. “But you’d come away with a much fuller understanding of the people you’re trying to learn about.”

“Perhaps you’ve got a point,” I conceded. “But I think I’ll stick to just brief visits for now.”

We talked about visiting the other elven cities as well. Celestine even said she could get me into Haelun’or - which is something I never thought would happen in a thousand years. A dark elf in the Silver City? I suppose anything is possible in this day and age.

After that, we dropped by the bank to pick up the minas Juan left me in his will. I’m still thinking about what I might like to do with them. Maybe I’ll do as Celestine suggests and use the funds to live abroad for a year or two. Or perhaps I’ll do what Juan and I always said we’d do - open our tavern, the Cook & the Cartographer. I don’t know the first thing about running a business, though. Property in Helena probably costs an arm and a leg too…

A few months ago in Siramenor, Saria mentioned that Leric Tresery was still around. At the time, I thought - oh, how exciting it would be if I met him again! Wouldn’t that be nostalgic? But in the back of my mind, I figured such a meeting would never actually happen. It’s a big world out there and the chances of encountering one single person seemed astronomically low. Especially knowing that Leric was off being a Paladin somewhere - having grand adventures and defeating the evillest of foes.

Well, guess who I ran into today!

It all started earlier in Helena. I was feeling restless and having a hard time focusing on anything. Juan still weighs heavily on my mind. Jack mentioned that more and more ghosts have been appearing in Arcas lately and it worried me. The last thing I want is for Juan to be a ghost, but I have no idea where his ship might have sunk. Sir Christiansen mentioned that they were fighting in the icy seas north of Vasiland, but he couldn’t pinpoint it exactly on a map. I suppose I will make a trip to Vasiland to go pray and light a candle on the beach as Jack said. I don’t know where Vasiland is, though, unfortunately. I’ve never been there. So I ended up heading to the library to see if I could find an Atlas. Normally, when I don’t know where someplace is, I ask Juan. But I, unfortunately, can’t do that anymore.

Who should I meet at the library but Icroth? We hadn’t seen each other in several weeks. He camped out in my back garden for a time, but eventually, he packed up and moved on. Our eyes met across the shelves and he nodded to me, smiling. “Tanith, it’s been some time. Doing well?”

And I realized all at once that he didn’t know yet. He didn’t know that Juan was dead… and I was going to be the one to have to tell him.

I opened my mouth and no sound came out. Words completely abandoned me and my eyes started filling with tears. Icroth immediately set his book aside and got up from the table where he was reading. He rushed over to me. “What happened?” he asked me, closing the distance between us.

“You’re right, you know,” I managed to choke out as a few tears rolled down my cheeks. “About humans. You’re right.”

“I don’t like being right,” he said. “Talk to me.”

“Juan’s dead,” I whispered hoarsely as the tears rolled off my chin and fell on the carpet below.

Icroth’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath between his teeth. “What?” he asked. “How?”

“How do you think, Icroth?” I said, and it came out more hateful and angry than I intended.

Icroth is perhaps the only other person who might understand my feelings about Juan’s death. About how pointless and tragic it was. Everyone else has swallowed the line about him being so heroic. How he died defending Haense. But the plain truth is – Haense didn’t need Juan to die. He could have lived and gone on to raise a beautiful family with Celestine. But instead, he gets to be a hero.

“The Scyflings killed him. I’m told he died… a very… heroic death defending Haense. But I can’t… I can’t stand hearing any more of that garbage. I don’t want him to be a hero. I don’t care about heroism or defending Haense. I want him to be alive.”

Icroth did nothing but stare silently at me for a moment. “It’s a damned shame. He was a good man,” he said at length. He put a hand on my shoulder. “Come. You mentioned he liked Siramenor. I was planning to head that way after I finished reading. We’ll toast to him there.”

That was the best suggestion I’d heard all day.

And so we set out for Siramenor.

The tavern in Siramenor is a nice place. It’s cozy with a warm, wooden interior and arched doorways to let in the fresh air. The bartender did us a kindness. He heard we were here to toast to a fallen friend, so he gave us a few drinks on the house. I got a sweet, smoky bourbon with an oaky taste. Barrel-aged spirits seem to be a specialty among the wood elves. It makes sense. Elves would, of course, know how to make the best kind of casks for their alcohol. No one understands the intricacies of lumber better than the elves. Icroth got tea, of course. His teetotaling makes me feel like a drunkard, but I like what I like. And what I like is aged in a barrel for twelve years and served on the rocks.

It’s funny. Back in the days of the Rose, I wouldn’t touch alcohol. I thought it was sinful. I wonder what the younger me would think if she saw me now.

Once I got my whiskey, I lifted my glass in a toast. “To Juan Salinas Ruiz Villalpando de Ponce de Lyons,” I said. “May you find peace in the next world. And make the most beautiful map of the Seven Skies that anyone’s ever seen. When we die, I hope you’ll be the first to greet us - so you can take us on new adventures to the most beautiful places in God’s kingdom.”

“Hear, hear,” Icroth replied, taking a sip of his tea. “Will there be a funeral?”

“I don’t know. Celestine is the executor of his estate. It will be her decision, I suppose,” I replied, swirling my whiskey in the glass. “There’s nothing to bury. His body’s sunk at the bottom of the sea. And Celestine has gone on sabbatical… I’m worried there won’t be a service at all.”

“It isn’t fair,” Icroth said. “To you. Or to Celestine. Or to Juan. Foul business, war.”

“I can’t stand it,” I said, shedding a few tears on the bar counter. “I have lived through so many God damned wars. I am so sick of them.”

“Then why do you insist on getting involved?” he asked me pointedly, leaning closer to me. “These politics you like to dabble in. They’re nothing but war through different means.”

His words cut me and I looked away. “I’ve lost faith in the Oren political system,” I said. “They killed the bill that Juan and I worked so hard on. We wanted so badly to make a real change and improve the lives of women in Oren, but they quashed my legislation without a single thought.”

“Then let them hang themselves by the very noose they tied, Tanith,” he said. “You can’t save the humans from their own mad lust for power and war.”

“I don’t know if real change even exists. You’re right about humans. They’re always the same. Always,” I muttered. “It’s still all the same people in power from hundreds of years ago. They’re worse than elves that way. They change the name but it’s the same people. Chivay is now Helvets. Carrion is now Barbanov… But it’s a coat of paint on the same people with the same beliefs. They have a democracy to make the people like me feel as though we have a say, but if we say anything His Majesty dislikes, it’s squashed.”

“All of that. The two parties. It’s controlled opposition and political theater,” Icroth replied. “It funnels new ideas into a false dichotomy controlled by the crown. In the end, everything is in service to Oren’s endless war machine - because that cycle of death is what makes men the richest and the most powerful. But as I said, they fail to see it’s a noose around their own necks.”

I pushed a hand into my hair, my shoulders shaking as I gripped my whiskey glass. “Why does that noose have to hang my friends too, though, Icroth? Juan fought so hard for my bill. We wrote it together and we were going to make a difference. Now my bill is dead. He’s dead. I – I just – I can hardly stand it.”

At that moment, someone walked into the bar. Before then, Icroth and I were alone - and I felt safe being a little vulnerable. I quickly dried my eyes and avoided looking at the newcomer. But something about the elf who walked into the bar caught my eye…

He was tall, well built. Dark skin, like most mali’ame. Black hair, perhaps a little shaggy. I knew him from somewhere, but I couldn’t quite figure out where. He took a seat at the other end of the bar and I kept stealing glances over at him. Eventually, I couldn’t resist any longer and I called out to him. “Excuse me… but you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

The elf turned to look at me - and I saw recognition light up in his eyes as well. “Pink hair,” he said, noting my braid. “And the glasses. I would recognize you anywhere, Tanith Toov. It’s been a long time, little sheepherder.”

“Leric Tresery!” I exclaimed, shooting up out of my seat. “It’s really you!”

He grinned. And it was that same mischievous smile he had from back in the day. “In the flesh!”

Icroth and I moved chairs over to where Leric was sitting. I introduced Icroth to Leric and vice versa. My God, it’s been three hundred years since I last saw him, but he still looks the same. Still a shaggy bastard who needs a haircut. But there’s greater wisdom and maturity about him now. A certain grace. Back in the days of the Rose, he was reckless and a bit wild, needing direction. But today? Why, that’s a different story. “To think,” he said. “The last two White Roses ended up being an ’ame and a ’ker. Fate has a good sense of humor. And me – I went from crucifying elves to becoming their sworn protector.”

Leric told me all about what he had done in the centuries since I saw him last. For a while, the Treseries were a noble family in Oren. (To think, an elven family in the peerage!) But then, he went on to become a Paladin of Xan and founded his own order called the Golden Lions. He married, had a child, and his son went on to become the leader of Malinor, ushering in great reforms for the elves. “I would love for you to meet him someday, Ilir,” he said to me with a joking smile and a wink. “I think you would like him. He takes after his father.”

“We should try to get together for dinner sometime,” I suggested. “I’d love to meet your wife as well. And I could introduce you to some of my friends. We’ll make a party of it! It’ll be just like old times.”

“Now that would be a pleasure,” Leric replied, grinning. “I remember how much I loved your cooking back in the Rose. It was always something to look forward to after a long day in the field. But… enough about me, Tanith. Where did you run off to for all these years?”

I felt the good cheer go out of me. “Oh, well… I can’t claim I did anything exciting. When Mr. Toov died, I… well. I’m fine now. That’s all I can say,” I replied. I hardly wanted to rehash my years spent in misery and isolation. “I’m working as a bartender in Helena at the Dragon’s Rest. And I help the Northern Geographic Society with their museums. I’m nothing impressive like a Paladin but I get by and I’m happy.”

Leric bowed his head respectfully at the mention of my first husband. “So long as you’re fulfilled and content, that’s all that matters. Excitement is overrated. A comfortable life is a good one.”

We talked for several hours more - sharing memories of the White Rose, Ard Kerrack, Krak du Rhoswen, and our fallen friends. Icroth was quiet the entire time, just watching and sipping his tea. I tried to get him involved, but he said he was content to just listen. Eventually, though, the hour grew late and it was time for us to head home. Leric wished Icroth luck on his Paladin trials. “Serving Xan is perhaps one of the best decisions I’ve made with my life,” he said. “May it give you a similar fulfillment, Icroth.” With the promise that we’d keep in touch and have dinner together sometime, we split and went our separate ways. I made sure to hug Leric before I went, though. When the Exodus occurred, I never got the chance to say goodbye to a lot of my old friends. Leric no longer identifies with the Rose, but… even so. Hugging him felt a lot like hugging all the people I missed from so long ago.

Along the way home, I turned to Icroth. “What did you think of him?” I asked.

Icroth shrugged his shoulders. “He was fine. Friendly enough,” he commented. “Similar to most old Mali, though. Likes to talk too much about all the impressive things he’s done in the past.”

“I’m old and I’m not like that!” I protested and Icroth smirked.

“You are especially like that,” he teased me. “But you were crying earlier and you’re smiling now. So I would say it was an evening well spent.”

I pouted at him and huffed, but I still took his hand and held it all the way home.

Icroth is harsh and blunt. He doesn’t tell me the things I like to hear. He tells me the truth, even if the truth is painful. But… I think he does care about me, in his way. And I care about him too. I wonder if there could be something between us.

I don’t know, though. I had feelings for Juan and it’s going to take some time for me to get over that. I don’t know if I’m ready. And Icroth – it’s hard to tell what he feels about me. Perhaps he just thinks of me as a friend or a sister. I can’t say.

He’s good looking in the way that I like. And we get along well. But…

Well, is it wrong to want to be romanced? Just a little bit? I’m like most girls. I want to feel beautiful and special too. I want to feel desired - physically and emotionally. I know that love isn’t always fervent, passionate, and intense. Sometimes love is just a slow, comfortable, everyday sort of thing. But at least at the beginning, you want to feel some of that amorous fire. And Icroth? I don’t think he has a single romantic bone in his body. He is the least passionate man I’ve ever met. He’s so plain and direct. I’m sure if he wanted to be with me, he would have just… said so by now. I suppose that means he’s not interested.

Of course, he’s not interested. Who am I kidding? I’m not attractive. I’ve apparently become an ugly old woman without even realizing it. Every human in Helena seems to think I look like I’m over fifty. Fifty-eight! Ugh, I can’t believe Mr. Lorf said that. I feel hideous. That one dark elf flirted with me, but… looking back, I think he was probably trying to get a free drink.

I’m an elf and I look like a 58-year-old human woman… I can’t believe this! Elves aren’t supposed to age! I hate this! Leric looked exactly the same as he did three hundred years ago! But I look like I’m FIFTY? Almost SIXTY?

Focusing on research is difficult because the NGS reminds me of Juan. He never lived to see the Helena branch completed. He didn’t live to see the natural history wing finished with his beautiful maps on display. I go through my day in a fairly pleasant mood - and then suddenly I remember he’s dead and I feel sick.

I’ve taken up bartending again. Just because it’s something that doesn’t make me think of Juan. It keeps my hands and my mind busy. I’m still working on projects for the museum opening, of course, but… I have to admit my enthusiasm has gone out of it. Juan would want to see it finished and I’ll make sure that happens. It’s just hard right now, especially with Celestine on sabbatical. I miss Juan so much. I want him to drop in like he usually does and sweep me off on another adventure.

I feel like I should know how to deal with loss by now. I’ve certainly gone through enough of it. But it feels fresh every time. Grief is something that is formless, ever-changing. Just when you think you’ve understood it, it takes a new shape. Life always finds unique ways to hurt you - even after five-hundred long years. But I don’t want to become hard-hearted and jaded. I’m not like Icroth. I’m not going to be a Mali who wallows endlessly in my own misery. There’s still a future worth looking forward to – at least I hope so. I truly, truly hope so.

Getting old is so awful, though. The longer I live, the more regrets I have. The more loss I suffer. The more faces I will never see again. The more names I add to the ever-growing list of deceased friends and lovers. Maybe elves are not meant to live among humans for that reason. The weight of repeated loss after repeated loss becomes too heavy to bear.

I need to write about something other than how sad I am… Oh!

Mr. Lorf dropped by the Dragon’s Rest today. He used to be one of my coworkers. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned him in my diary before. We weren’t really close friends and didn’t spend time together outside of work. But it was nice to see him, I suppose. He seems like he’s gone through some hardship as well. His hair is shaggy and unkempt - and somewhere along the way, it seems like he lost an eye. He told me he took up alchemy but got kicked out of the college for unauthorized experimentation or something like that. He had a girlfriend but got in a conflict with her family that ended violently. And he’s been living as a highwayman since then. (Truth be told, I’m shocked he’s not in jail or standing trial right now… but maybe nobody pressed charges. I felt a little afraid talking to him and I considered calling the ISA… but nobody likes a snitch.)

He asked me what I had been up to and I mentioned the museum. “Museum, that’s a hell of a thing,” he said. “I hear you’re old enough to be one of the exhibits. You’re what? Five-hundred? Well, you don’t look a day over fifty-eight.”

Lord have mercy. He’s the second human who’s told me something like that. Do I really look like I’m in my fifties or sixties? It can’t be. I’m an elf! I keep staring at myself in the mirror and trying to see what they see. Is it my hair? Or how I dress? Perhaps it’s the glasses. I don’t have wrinkles. Elves don’t get wrinkles. I feel as though I’m reasonably pretty. No great beauty, perhaps, but pleasant enough to the eye. Ugh. Humans make me feel so ancient. Perhaps I need to update my wardrobe and be more stylish. I admit I haven’t kept up with fashion over the years. Maybe Mary Lucille will help me if I ask her nicely. She’s on the cutting edge of style. Edward is very fashion-conscious as well. He might be able to suggest a few changes. Our last meeting ended on a somewhat sour note with me criticizing his orc fiancee though.

Perhaps dark elves simply aren’t attractive to most humans. They see my pale-colored hair and it looks elderly to them. The elves of Siramenor quite liked my hair, though. And a mali’ker man – I think his name was Fyrrathul – came into the bar earlier today and he was very flirtatious, my goodness. He kept calling me ‘maleyulni’ii.’ I looked it up after he left and apparently it means ‘little diamond.’ He went on and on about how beautiful my hair and eyes were. He’s not exactly my type, but it was nice to be complimented. I don’t often feel pretty. Juan would praise my beauty to the skies, of course, but I think he was just exaggerating to make me smile. (He did seem to have a liking for older women, though. He admitted once that he’d been trying to seduce me when we first met. And he mentioned bedding girls’ mothers on more than one occasion…)

Speaking of old people, I wrote to Jack a few days ago and asked him if he’d be willing to meet and talk about Aegis with me. He remembers it far better than I do. He happened to be in Helena today, so we met up and I showed him the new museum. (He’s never been to the museum in Reza! I have to take him sometime!) He was very sorry to hear what happened to Juan – and warned me to go and pray at the battle site so that Juan doesn’t return as a ghost. Apparently, the Paladins are hearing more and more of revenants appearing these days. I’m going to take a candle to the beach near where Juan died and pray for him like Jack said. I want him to be happy and at peace in the Seven Skies. When I die, I want Juan to take me on adventures to the most beautiful spots in God’s kingdom.

Jack and I sat for a while in the back garden and he told me about his time in Aegis. He served under Hochmeister Gaius Marius in the Teutonic Order - and, at one point, he was the King of Hanseti. Hanseti exists partly because of Jack. He told me of the Undead assault on Al’khazar. About Pampo Perea’s funeral. The Phoenix Rebellion and the legendary duel between Eze’kiel Tarus and Gaius Marius for the crown of Oren. And then, after Tarus, Exalted Godfrey would, at last, emerge and lead the unification of Oren under one empire.

“I wish I could say I was on the right side back then. But I wasn’t. I delayed the unification of the Empire for years,” Jack said to me. “I served Hanseti as its king. But Hanseti was a cold, harsh, and lonely place. No one came, and all my effort became rage. Why wasn’t anything working? We had competent commanders. We had competent builders. Why was no one coming? Why did I reign over a ghost town, in Konnisberg? What was wrong with me?”

I watched as tears started to fall from his eyes. I have never seen him cry before.

“That rage eventually consumed me, and I blamed everyone else except for me. I killed my friends for a belief that turned out to be worthless anyway. I murdered Samuel Bealcrest and Mirtok de Nurem for nothing. I was written off the history books. Everyone forgot me.”

“Jack…” I stood up and I moved to hug him. “Jack, you mustn’t… Everyone made mistakes back then. Even me. I have so many regrets from Asulon and from Anthos… We’re blessed to have those mistakes forgotten. And look at Haense now. That’s the land you once ruled. It’s bustling and beautiful, full of culture and life. A kingdom you helped to found. It’s still here.”

Jack’s tears continued to pour down his face. “Is it? The people I loved are no longer there. I know not the houses, nor the faces. They’re all gone. Buried under earth and water in a long lost land. But I still hold it in my heart.”

I felt tears welling up in my own eyes. The way he feels about Hanseti is the same way I feel about Kaedrin. The sigil of the White Rose flies everywhere, from every tower and banner. Prince Frederick Helvets has the same blue eyes and auburn hair as his far distant ancestors. And yet… and yet… it’s still not the same. It never will be. The people we loved are gone. And here we are. Here we are, in spite of everything.

“I’ve wanted to go and join my brothers for so long, Tanith, yet I’m still here because Xan bids it,” he said to me. “I have to keep fighting to protect humanity. It’s all I have, my only reason for living.”

“Then it’s a good reason,” I replied. “Any reason at all is a good reason to keep living. There were some days for me… the only reason I woke up was to feed my chickens. Even something as little as that is good enough. Because if you weren’t here, Jack, I wouldn’t have met you.”

“I never told anyone about what I did. I couldn’t tell anyone. I had to lead the Golden Lances. There was no time to mourn, after my imprisonment. I never told anyone, but you,” he said, his voice hoarse from the tears and no louder than a whisper. “I’ve walked alone for all my life, after Hanseti. I no longer knew anyone I could call a brother.”

“Then maybe I can be a sister,” I said, letting him go from the hug but keeping my hands upon his shoulders.

“I’ve caused so many deaths. What if I do something horrible to you too, Tanith?” he asked me - and he was trembling. The famous dragon slayer was trembling in my hands. “You’re too kind to an old bastard like me. You should treat me with disdain, after all I’ve done. All I failed to do.”

I smiled at him, as reassuringly as I could.

“Don’t worry about me, Jack. I wouldn’t be here today if I wasn’t hard to kill. And… regardless of who you were in the past, you have always been very wonderful and good to me.”

He managed to return my smile at last. He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. “Xan has me in His service for twenty more years. And I hope I will count you as a friend until my contract ends,” he said. “But duty calls… and I must go.” I gave him another hug before he left. We promised to meet up again sometime soon.

Oh, Jack.

I know it’s hard, my friend. I really do. The burden of centuries is a heavy one. Every loss, every regret. The list just keeps getting longer - minute by minute, hour by hour, year by year. Time is merciless in all the things it takes from us.

But there is a future, I think. There’s still a future. I didn’t meet Jack centuries ago. I met him here and now in this beautiful present, with all its joy and pain still unfolding, still being written. Our stories aren’t over yet.

I list them off, one by one, in my head until sleep overtakes me. It’s such a long list. Every time I think I’ve finished naming every fallen friend, I think of another one.

Today, I added another name to the list.

God, it’s cruel. It never stops being cruel, every time it happens. How many deaths have I witnessed? Too many to number and yet every single one of them hurts like it’s the first one. I never want to say goodbye. I’m never ready. So many of them have died prematurely and pointlessly, losing their lives on bloody blades in the service of endless war. When I think of it, I feel sick enough to vomit. I feel so much hatred and grief that my blood might boil away inside my veins. Nothing comforts me in times like this. Nothing. No empty platitudes about my friends ‘being at peace’ or ‘in a better place.’ There’s no sugarcoating any of this. It’s just senseless and unneeded loss of life, plain and simple.

Juan had just proposed to the love of his life. They were going to get married, buy land in Haense, settle down, and start a family. They were going to run the museum together. They were going to have beautiful children. I was going to be their godmother. Just a few days ago, I was drawing sketches for their wedding cake and thinking up menus for the reception. Now it’s all over. None of that is ever going to happen.

Juan Lyons, my best friend, is dead.

I was doing laundry in the back garden behind the Helena museum when Sir Christiansen burst through the door, clad in a bloodied soldier’s uniform, and shouting my name. “Tanith! Have you seen Celestine?” he pleaded with me. “Please, I’ve looked everywhere. I can’t find her. She has to know. Oh, God!”

I tried to calm Sir Christiansen down, but he was in the throes of a frenzy. Tears streamed from red, swollen eyes. “It was horrible,” he sobbed. “It was horrible, Tanith! Oh God! Juan and I were on another mission against the Scyflings, at sea… We were cornered and Juan… he dueled the Scyfling captain to buy us some time to escape…”

I felt a pit of dread forming in my stomach.

“Don’t… don’t tell me Juan’s been injured, Sir Christiansen,” I said.

“He’s dead, Tanith! That bastard slew him!” Sir Christiansen wailed in anguish. “He died in my arms! This blood on my shirt - it’s his, Tanith. It’s his! What am I going to tell Celestine?!”

At first, I wanted to believe this was some kind of prank. Juan is – was – a jokester. But he would never do anything this cruel. No, I could see the blood plainly on Sir Christiansen’s shirt. Juan’s blood. It was still red and fresh, as though it had come right out of the veins. “Please… tell me there’s something of him left to bury,” I pleaded with Sir Christiansen. “Tell me there’s a body.”

“All I have… is this letter he wrote to Celestine,” Sir Christiansen murmured, touching a letter tucked into his breast pocket. “The ship sunk… and took his body down with it.”

“There’s nothing left of him at all –?” My voice cracked with horror and grief. “What will we do? Bury an empty coffin? That’s not a funeral! How will we –”

At that precise moment, the museum door opened and Celestine stepped inside. In her arms, she carried a box of supplies for the new exhibits. She paused in the doorway, staring mutely at the bloody Sir Christiansen and me with the pleasant smile fixed on her face - though it slowly began to fade. “Tanith, dearest, what’s wrong?” she asked me. “Lauritz, you didn’t make her cry, did you…?”

I couldn’t even look at her when Lauritz took the blood-stained letter from his pocket and delivered it to her. The sound that came out of Celestine’s mouth, my God. Sir Christiansen scrambled to reassure her, promising her that he died a valiant hero and saved them all with his courage. But honestly, what good is heroism to the fiancee who was counting on him to come home? He had a future to look forward to, a woman who loved him, plans he was making. All of those plans are now erased, swept away by a tide of war, leaving nothing behind. I would rather Juan flee like a coward and live than die like a hero. I wanted to say something, but I held my tongue as much as I could. I suppose if the tales of Juan’s heroism in battle comforted Celestine in her grief, it counts for something…

I ended up giving her Juan’s compass - the one he gave to me before he left. She deserves it far more than I do. There was no way I could keep it selfishly for myself - not now that he’s dead. Celestine was his wife-to-be. He kept that compass on his person everywhere he went – and now it deserves to be in her pocket. That’s where Juan would want it to be, I think.

Once Celestine had calmed down and had a drink, Sir Christiansen and I walked her home to Reza. We lingered a while around the museum to keep her company, but eventually, she was just too overwhelmed with emotions and needed to retire. She told me of a plan to take a sabbatical for a year or two. She couldn’t hope to continue her work with the NGS while handling Juan’s will and mourning his loss. She wanted time to rest, time to think, and time to pray.

Oh, Celestine! She was so thoughtful even after just hearing about the loss of her fiance! She looked at me with tearful eyes and said, “He cared for you too, Tanith… I know how much he meant to you, and how much you m-meant to him. And there’s n-no shame in admitting that yourself. He- He was your friend, perhaps one of your best ones, and I am sorry for your loss as well.”

How can someone be so selfless even at a time of great grief like this? Words really can’t capture how much I admire her. She is the sweetest and most wonderful person. Not only intelligent but deeply kind and empathetic. At that moment, I could see very clearly why Juan had fallen in love with her.

I wonder if she knows how I felt about him.

I don’t think I will ever tell her.

Nothing happened between me and Juan. I didn’t want anything to happen. I’ve sworn off human men and I’m sticking to that promise. From the moment Juan and Celestine got together, I supported their relationship wholeheartedly and I couldn’t wait for their wedding. But… I can’t deny my own heart. I loved him too. He was my best and closest friend. Juan Lyons always had a kind and encouraging word for me. He made me laugh and blush. I never… I never felt old when I was with him. I felt young in spirit and young at heart. He was my brother. And if circumstances had been different - if he had been a handsome elf instead of a human man - I would have fallen for him very hard. I fell for him a little bit even as a human man.

God…

God, he’s gone.

We’ll never go on another adventure together. I’ll never see his smiling face or hear him laugh ever again. He’ll never joke or flirt with me ever again. I’ve cried so much that my chest feels empty and all that’s left is this dull, throbbing ache.

Juan wouldn’t want me to be miserable, though. He would want me to keep having fun adventures and discovering new places. He’d want me to walk in the deepest, darkest part of the woods. He’d want me to search for treasure in reef-laden sunken ships. He’d want me to sit in the shade of a giant mushroom. He’d want me to go sledding across the snow-slick surface of a glacier. He’d want me to see the most beautiful places and spend time with the most beautiful people. That’s how Juan Lyons lived and that’s why he put that compass in my hands before he left to fight the Scyflings.

Juan Salinas Ruiz Villalpando de Ponce de Lyons – if you can read this, know that I love you and I always will. And I know you’re in Heaven making the most beautiful map of the Seven Skies.

AH! I’m so excited! I’ve been waiting for him to pop the question and he finally did! Sooner than expected too! Oh, I’m completely over the moon for both of them!

He gave me the happy news today at the Dragon’s Rest while I was sitting and doing my research. Juan, that joker! He walked into the tavern with a big frown on his face. Sitting down with a heavy sigh, he looked at me and said, “Tanith… about Celestine and me…” Oh, I thought for sure they had broken up and I was ready to let him cry on my shoulder. But then he flashed a huge smile. “I proposed! We’re getting married in the spring!”

I nearly leaped out of my chair and knocked over all my books in my excitement! “You should have told me you were planning to propose!” I exclaimed. “I would have helped you plan it! Oh my goodness! Juan, you have to tell me everything right now!”

He gave me all the details, of course. About how he took her to a romantic glade of magical trees and bent the knee under the biggest and most beautiful of the boughs. (I should be a poetess.) He melted down the golden doubloon I found in the shipwreck and had it turned into a ring for Celestine - to represent their mutual love of adventure and exploration. Celestine, of course, loved the ring and accepted his proposal right away. They planned to marry come spring when the weather warms up and the flowers are blooming. They’ve decided to have the reception at the museum in Reza with the NGS and all their friends. Juan told me he had been speaking with the King of Haense about securing a property so they could settle down and look at starting a family.

“Is time for me to stop trying to be the macho man who has something to prove and to start becoming a man of duty to my family,” Juan said. “Sad news for you, though, is that I will not have time to take you to as many places as before.”

I laughed and waved him off. “You’re forgiven, of course.”

“But the good news is that you will be godmother to our children and soon have many Lyons to take you wherever you want to go,” Juan replied.

I simply couldn’t stop smiling. “I’ll love your family as if they were my own, I promise,” I said. “I couldn’t ask for a greater gift than the friendship you two have shown me. I’m so happy for you both and so proud of you, Juan.”

“Ah, gift. That reminds me.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He slid it across the table to me. “I have a little gift for you. To aid in your adventures when I am busy being a good papá to my niños y niñas.”

I opened the box to find Juan’s trusty compass inside it. “You’re giving this to me?” I asked. “Won’t you need it for your adventures with Celestine?”

“Si, si, but I am having new ones made for us. Matching,” he replied. “His y hers. Very romantic.”

“You old sap,” I teased him. “What happened to Juan Lyons the great seducer? Irresistible to all women, yet beholden to none?”

“Ay, every bee finds a flower. Every sword has its sheath. For every lock, a key. Every foot, a shoe. Every king finds a queen. And she is mine,” he said, placing a hand over his heart. “I did not know what I truly wanted before I met her. But now, Tanith, it all makes sense. I am a completed man thanks to Celestine. I am transformed.”

I rested a cheek dreamily in my hand as I smiled across the table at him. He was the picture of happiness. “Congratulations, Juan. Being married is one of the most wonderful things in the world when you have the right partner. May your union be joyous and fruitful.”

“Ah gracias, gracias. You helped me get here, don’t forget this,” he said. “Without you, amiga, I would have gotten the cold feet and taken off to lands unknown. My horrible premonition would have come true! Thanks to you, I will not be old, drunk, and armless with no wife or child to love me.”

“Thank God I rescued you from that dismal fate!” I giggled.

“But don’t tell Celestine I almost left her, God no,” he said, standing up. “Now sadly I must leave you, amiga. The King of Haense calls me to do one last mission against the Scyflings. But once it is complete, I am retired from this fighting business to focus on mi familia.”

“You’ll let me help plan the wedding, of course,” I replied.

“Si, I would have no one else cater our union! And if Celestine doesn’t ask you to be the maid of honor, I am canceling the whole thing!” Juan grinned and leaned down to kiss me on the cheek.

“We must have a six-layer cake made to look like a map - ah! We’ll go over details when I get back. Hasta la proxima, Tanith!” And with that, he hurried off. I waved goodbye to him as he dashed out of the tavern. Oh, Juan! He’s always busy with someplace to go.

I’m so happy for him. Edward might be marrying an orc, but at least Juan found himself a perfect match. I couldn’t think of anyone better for him than Celestine. I can’t wait to have dinner parties at their house. And children! Juan’s become such a family-minded man! I hope he’ll let me babysit his next generation of little explorers. And when they’re older, perhaps we’ll all have wonderful adventures together.

Juan really is the best friend I could have asked for. He was one of the first people to make me feel truly welcome in Helena. I love him with all my heart and I’m so glad he found the right woman for him. I can’t wait to get started on planning a wedding menu and designing a cake! Won’t that be so much fun? It will be a nice break from researching ancient history at the very least!

Ah… My hope is that I’ll one day find someone who fits me as well as Juan fits Celestine. Perhaps, if I’m lucky, in a few years, he’ll be attending my wedding too. I’d like him to stand at my side as my best man. Maybe luck will smile on the both of us!

Oh, I love weddings. They’re my favorite.

They inducted me into their ranks today at the Circle meeting. I’m a little nervous. I felt somewhat out of place among the others of the NGS. They’re all such accomplished writers, thinkers, explorers, and scientists! As for me, I’ve hardly done anything of note. My only claim to fame is the fact that I’m very old… and I am far from the oldest elf who has ever lived. By elf standards, I’m not even elderly. I am, at best, middle aged! Come one, come all, and see the famous middle-aged elf!

The meeting took place in the NGS Museum in Reza. I swear, every time I visit that place, it gets more impressive and beautiful! Juan had several maps on display and we took a moment to walk around and admire them before the meeting.

When the meeting began, we went down to the new archival wing that’s still under construction. There’s a miniature amphitheater in the center of the archival wing for our NGS meetings. Celestine took the podium and delivered her updates before prompting the two newest members - me and Princess Alexandria Barbanov - to stand up and introduce ourselves.

I went first. Her Highness seemed a little shy, so I didn’t mind. Though I must admit, I felt a little embarrassed. Everyone else assembled at the meeting was a great explorer or scholar. Up until recently, I was just a barkeep. I’ve never published anything and I reckon I don’t have much to say! But regardless of my experience - or lack thereof - the Society gave me a very warm welcome. There were a few raised eyebrows when I mentioned the subject of my age. The princess Barbanov seemed impressed when I told her I’d met her famous ancestor, the Exalted St. Siegmund! I can’t claim I was great friends with Exalted Siegmund, but I knew of him through Lorin and he accidentally knocked the tray out of my hands at a party once. To think such an awkward man ended up becoming an Emperor, a Saint, and a Prophet, the patriarch of century-spanning dynasties!

Maybe Her Highness thought I was one-upping her, though. The first thing she said when she took the podium was “Sorry to disappoint you all, but I am niet an ancient and wise elf. I am just a humble botanist, trying to make sense of the world; and a woman who just wants to help with this war, where blood will niet be spilled needlessly.” Goodness… I felt terribly guilty. The last thing I ever wanted was to make anyone feel bad or small, especially if that someone is a princess. I never meant to be a show off. I suppose I should probably apologize to her next time I see her…

The rest of the meeting went well, though. Celestine asked everyone what scholarly studies they’d been pursuing lately. Princess Alexandria was conducting a study on the Scyflings. Otto Wittenbach was working on expanding the archival wing and the natural history hall of the museum. Isabel de Falstaff has been working with the Imperial Foreign Agency on a classified project. Angelika Bykov is busy with her political work in the House of Commons. And Juan is, of course, drafting his new book exploring the southern regions of Arcas! I didn’t have much to report, sadly, but hopefully I shall have something interesting to add next time. After that, we discussed the opening of the new museum in Helena and concluded the meeting for the time being.

I returned home to Helena to look over the progress made on the museum. The displays are up, but it lacks the exhibits. I’m thinking of drafting some informational pamphlets containing what I know about the Chivays and the First Empire since I suppose that’s my particular field of expertise. But before I hunkered down and got to work, I wanted to show off my new home.

I sent a letter to Icroth and arranged for the two of us to meet in the Helena Market Square. To my surprise, he came fairly quickly. Icroth is a very prompt man as I’ve discovered. I showed him the museum in progress and I’m happy to say he was quite impressed! As we walked through the stands, I turned to him and asked, “Have you thought about coming to live in Helena, Icroth?”

He shrugged. “I’ve not put much thought into it.”

I pouted at him. “You told me you’d consider it. Goodness, Icroth. How much longer do you plan to keep living like a vagrant?”

“Until I complete my trials. Then I’ll feel like I’ve accomplished something,” he replied.

“Well,” I said. “Perhaps we can work on your trials together. I’m an official member of the NGS starting today and I need to do something exciting so I can report on it at the meetings.”

He smiled a bit - a rare expression for him. But one I certainly love to see. “I’d like that.”

So I proposed that we head on a day-trip down to Siramenor. My last experience in the wood elven village was very pleasant and I’ve been eager to understand more about elven culture. I thought perhaps we might find one of the Green Priests who would be willing to teach us. Icroth agreed to come along. His elven is rusty and he wanted to practice. I took him by the hand and we made our way south along the road to Siramenor.

Unfortunately, none of the Green Priests were available to sit down with us. But we did meet a lovely elven lady named Saria who was happy to chat about her experiences. I think she fancied Icroth because she kept looking at him curiously. My, love certainly is in the air at Siramenor! Saria has the most gorgeous eyes - the exact color of polished turquoise. It’s a striking hue that I’ve never seen before. Saria sat with us in the tavern and we spoke for a good, long while about the Aspects, the Spirits, and the Animal Gods. She mentioned Xan, which caught Icroth’s interest, and he explained that he training to become a paladin.

“I was engaged to a Paladin once,” Saria replied. “Are Leric and Mithras still around? I can’t think of the last time I’ve even seen a paladin…”

“You… don’t mean Leric Tresery, do you?” I asked. I thought surely to God not. But Saria’s face lit up with recognition.

“The very same!” she said. “Leric was a Keeper, one of Xan’s Champions. I was engaged to his grandson. Leric was like a father to me. His son actually became the High Prince of the Dominion.”

I swear, my jaw must have hit the floor. I never imagined Leric was still alive! There were only a handful of elves who served in the Order of the White Rose - and Leric was one of them. I can’t believe my old friend might still be around. Even more shocking, his children went on to become the leaders of Malinor! Why, Thomas Chivay really is rolling in his grave! I can hardly believe it!

But Leric’s story gives me hope for myself. Leric, despite being an Oren-born elf and a White Rose, managed to reconnect with his roots and rediscover his people’s culture. Perhaps I can too. I really hope I can see him again. It would be wonderful to catch up after all these centuries.

Unfortunately, we didn’t get to talk for much longer. An issue in the village demanded Saria’s attention. So Icroth and I gathered our things and set off for Helena.

On the way back, I teased Icroth a bit about Saria’s interest in him. “Seems like she’s single and she likes Paladins,” I joked to him. “Perhaps you’ve just met wife number two.”

“Not interested,” he grumbled. “Besides, like you said, I’m practically a vagrant. Bit of a step down from… High Prince of Malinor or whatever her last fiancee was.”

“You never know!” I linked my arm with his as we walked. “Love is blind, as they say.”

I feel like Icroth and I have gotten closer. Saria mentioned that she thought we were siblings when we arrived. I’ll take that as a good sign. I’m not sure Icroth is the type of man I could fall in love with. But a brother? I could see that, certainly. My grumpy, sourpuss brother who needs to learn to let loose and have a little fun.

I’ve come to believe that family is where you find it. It’s not blood that dictates the bond between two people. A family can be anything. It can be a First Empire military order and their resident dark elf servant. It can be a ragtag group of explorers and scholars who meet once a year in the museum basement. And it can be two lonely Mali’ker stranded in Oren with enough tragedy between them to fuel a thousand stage plays.

I received a letter from Celestine earlier today letting me know that the museum renovations in Helena are nearing completion! They’ve set me up with a little apartment on the third floor. It’s not particularly fancy, but it’s a comfortable little room to be sure. There’s a small, private garden area in the back which I plan to turn into my own private green space. I’m already starting to think about the flowers I want to cultivate - azaleas, perhaps, and maybe hydrangeas. Something that perfumes the air with relaxing fragrances.

I was looking around the Market Square for a gardening shop when I ran into Juan. Color me surprised, he was wearing a black, formal suit coat and tie. Juan’s the type of man who normally has his shirt collar open to show off his chest hair. “My goodness, Juan, what is the occasion?” I said, approaching him from across the square. “You look so formal!”

“Ah, there was a royal ball in Haense,” Juan replied - and I could tell right away that something was wrong. He was staring blankly off into space, looking distracted.

“Oh my, did you dance with the Queen?” I asked, meaning to tease him a little bit. After all, Juan Lyons always says that he wants to spend time in the company of the most beautiful women. And surely the Queen of Haense is one of Oren’s great beauties.

Under normal circumstances, Juan would have likely joked back or teased me in return. But he just seemed distant. “No, I only danced with Celestine,” he said quietly.

“Well, you look very dashing,” I replied. “Quite a different Juan than usual.”

“Sí. A proper, boring member of the House,” he mumbled before suddenly wandering off.

I just knew that something was bothering him, so I followed. Juan ambled off in the direction of the woods outside of town, seemingly unaware that I was chasing after him. I tracked him for several minutes through the underbrush. Finally, he stopped in a clearing, where he folded his arms and regarded his surroundings with faint melancholy. It seemed as though he wanted to be alone so I wasn’t sure whether I ought to approach him or not. But I’d come all this way out into the woods - there was no turning back now. “Juan?” I called out softly, not wanting to startle him. “Are you all right?”

I startled him anyway and he whipped out his cutlass. “Agggh!” he cried out, spinning to face me. His cry caused the birds in the nearby tree to take wing. When he realized it was me standing there, he quickly stowed his blade away. “Tanith, amiga… you scared the life out of me.”

I apologized and reiterated my question. “You seem off,” I said. “What’s wrong?”

Juan frowned, averting his eyes and rubbing the back of his neck. “I do not like this, Tanith,” he said, gesturing to his formal outfit. “I am… turning into the kind of man who wears things like this too fast. How did I end up having to wear these fancy suits? It’s not me.”

“It’s just a change of clothes, Juan. You’re still you, even in a suit,” I said.

“Sí, maybe,” he sighed. “But, Tanith, I have changed. I’ve changed so much and so fast, I do not even understand what is happening to me.”

I gazed at him for a long moment - and I realized shortly that this wasn’t about clothes at all. This was about Celestine and about being a member of the House. In fact, it was about growing up and growing old, taking on more responsibility.

“…Are you getting cold feet?” I asked him quietly. “Is that it?”

Juan ran a hand over his face. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this to Celestine. I’d be a terrible husband. I’m leading her on, playing with her feelings. It’s wrong.” And all of a sudden, he got a panicked look in his eye. “I have to get out of here. I will book passage on a ship to a distant land. Tanith! Do you want my minas?! I don’t need them! They won’t be worth anything on the frontier!”

I clapped my hands on his shoulders. “Juan! Tranquilo!” I said, borrowing one of his Savinian words. “You mustn’t do anything rash! Calm down — let’s go and talk about this. You can tell me anything.”

We found a cliff overlooking an autumnal colored glade filled with massive trees and mushrooms. Juan sat on the cliff’s edge, letting his legs dangle and resting his head in his hands. “I wasn’t supposed to get this far,” he muttered, dragging his fingers over his face. “I always figured I would be dead by now. Eaten by a crocodile. Fallen off a mountain. Stabbed by bandits. Sí, I lived every day like it was my last! Seeing all the most beautiful places, bedding the most beautiful ladies. And now — now look at me! I am a member of the House of Commons. I am deciding laws. I am thinking of children and marriage. I am wearing formal suits! What happened to me?”

“Juan,” I said. “Aren’t those good things? If you died young, think of how many things you would never get to see and never get to explore.”

“Sí, sí, but it has all just happened so fast,” he muttered. “There are so many things to do. I must look at laws and do my duties for the NGS and spend time with Celestine. I met her mother the other day, Tanith! Her mother! I have never met a woman’s mother unless I was seducing her mother!”

“But isn’t this what you wanted?” I asked him. “You love Celestine, don’t you?”

He was quiet for a long moment. “…Sí.”

“Don’t you want to marry her?”

Again, for a long moment, he said nothing. But then quietly muttered, “…Sí.”

“It’s a big change, maybe,” I replied to him. “But it’s a good change. You might be overwhelmed right now, but surely it’ll become less scary in time. Loving another person… joining your life together with theirs… it’s a wonderful thing, Juan. Love is a wonderful thing.”

“I worry, though, Tanith,” he said, looking down at his hands. “Lyons men. We do not live long, amiga. Exploring is dangerous and only becomes more so when you get older y slower. It was better to live life free and unconnected to anything. Now I have so many responsibilities, so many people I might let down if I do something wrong. I hate the politics. They are terrible for me. I can only pray for the end of my term to come quickly…” He turned to me, frowning. “Tanith, amiga… the House of Lords, they killed the Marital Consent Act. They said that patriarchal consent was a bulwark of the Orenian family.”

“What?” I blanched.

“I am afraid to keep pushing for it,” he said. “I will be going up against many powerful men, making many powerful enemies. Celestine, she would be so heartbroken if anything were to happen to me.”

I fell silent for a moment as I thought things over. “Well,” I said. “Just leave it to me, then. I’m the reason you wrote the bill in the first place.”

“You would take my seat?” he asked, eyebrows lifting.

“Well, why not?” I said. “I don’t have any family. I don’t have a spouse. There’s no one relying on me. I can make as many enemies as I like. The fate of Oren’s women relies on that bill. I’m the one who raised the issue, so let me take over. If the House of Lords has a problem, they can bring it to me.”

“Speak to Jonah, then,” Juan replied. “He likes you. Perhaps we can work something out.”

I nodded. “Then you’ll be free to explore and write books and win Laurels and love your lady without worry.”

“Sí, I want to buy a big house in the country and make many Salinas Ruiz Villalpando de Ponce de Herbert-Lyons babies with her,” he sighed, looking out over the cliff. “And when I am too old to go adventuring with you, you shall have a whole pride of Lyons to accompany you to whatever exotic place you like.”

I smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Then it’s settled. I’ll write to Mr. Elendil as soon as possible.”

We talked for a while longer about various things before we returned to Helena - and I like to think he’s feeling better now. But, oh… dear me. I’m not certain what I agreed to here. Am I really going to try and become a politician? Me? Of all people? Juan made it sound so dangerous too. Are the members of the House of Lords really that scary?

I want to make Oren a better place - not just for women but for everyone. I’m frightened, though. Politics is a foreign land for me - and the politics of Oren are so complicated, it takes years of study to even begin to understand them.

But if it helps my friend, what harm would there be in serving for a term? Four years is the blink of an eye for someone like me.