Cailleton

“Gods, Alexis.”

Evander breathed as she finally had brought her account to the conclusion. She felt spent after reliving those last months, and the Everwood incident in particular. Still it felt good to speak about it and she was grateful the old mercenary had just let her prattle on without interrupting.

“Never would have thought the Wulvers would go downhill that fast after your father died.”
he said softly, taking her hand and squeezed it.

Alexis gave a bitter smile.

“But you knew it would go downhill.”

Evander sighed.

“Yes. So did you. And so did your father, even if he would have never said so.“

He looked towards his friend‘s grave.

“Everything good has to end someday. But…”

He grabbed his crutch and nimbly stood up.

“If that is true, the same goes for everything bad.”

He extended his free hand towards Alexis.

“Take a walk with this old man? I want to reminisce a bit and I’d like to have you along.”

Alexis smiled briefly and with a last look towards her parents’ resting place she rose to her feet, accepting his invitation.

She linked arms with him, subtly offering some additional support, and let Evander take the lead.

He headed towards the village proper, which meant that they passed by the carpentry with the water mill by the ever cool stream of the river Fuil Cailleach that she had called her home as a child.

Her eyes wandered over the old but well maintained building to the small river, upstream to where it vanished into the cliffs.
To where she knew the water to be tumbling down in a beautiful waterfall, hidden from sight by the stony embrace of the mountain. Where she met Her, in a dream, the night her mother died…

“Rowan is doing a fine job. Your mother and her craft are still sorely missed, though.”

Evander pulled her out of her thoughts, having followed her gaze. She smiled and nodded, pushing the memory away for the time being. She was melancholic enough as it was.

He took her on a walk through the village, passing the small assortment of modest homesteads and shops made from the stone and wood the land offered, both of them being greeted cordially by the residents that crossed their path on their way to the numerous chores of daily life.
Cailleton was a quaint little village just like many others in the Garrahn mountains, nestled snugly into a slope of Bheann Trow, conveniently close to a nearby iron mine and surrounded by ancient conifer woods.

“Still got that dagger, ay?”
Evander observed with a soft smile as they passed by the smithy.

“‘Course.”

She tapped on the sheath holding the dagger her father had gifted her on her 7th natal day, crafted on that very anvil.

Her gaze brushed over the more lavish structure of the chief’s homestead, and she couldn’t resist a little mischievous smirk.

“And how is the Chief doing?”

Evander grinned back.

“Cranky as always. And most likely very very busy until you leave.”

He laughed.

“Didn’t know how to deal with your mother easily working the carpentry all by her lonesome, and certainly doesn’t know to deal with you having more battles under your belt than him and all his son’s combined.”

They exchanged a look of mirth.
The Chief wasn’t a bad man by any means, but a bit old fashioned. Women outside of the wife and mother role tended to leave him slightly flustered.

“Are you up for a walk in the forest? There’s a place I’d like to visit, and that will be easier with your help. And I think you might like it, too.”

Of course Alexis agreed.