(continued from "Dearly Departed - Part the First")
The specter’s loud yell shocked Eduwiges and Nethrida into action, both gripping their weapons tightly, prepared to move quickly at the slightest hint of danger.
"Rian, Hamster, deal with Finchley," said Xandilif, stepping in front of the woman, sword held aloft. Hawk pulled Finchley closer to himself as Xanderian wrapped her arms about her as she stared up at the specter, still in shock and clutching at her left side where she felt her brand burning beneath her tunic.
The specter regarded the group, rage making his gaze piercing, and aimed the arrow he has nocked at each of them in turn. "Who dares to pay respect to her?! How dare you! Do you know how much blood she has on her hands?! The Banished Witch of Aughaire did not pay for her crimes!... I should slay you all for this!"
Xandilif raised her voice as her sword, SilverWand, began to glow slightly. "Speak plain, Shade. What Witch do you mean? The ones whose bones lay here?”
The shade aimed his arrow directly at Xandilif and growled animalistically. "She escaped their eyes for long after she turned tail and fled. But they have found her at last! They found her and I have finally been given my chance at revenge!" The shade paused for a moment and shied away from the glow of SilverWand. But his attention was soon captured again as his rage-filled gaze fell upon Finchley. "YOU! You cried over her!"
Nethrida mustered some of her courage and pointed her sword at the shade as Eduwiges moved in closer. "This blade was crafted in recognition of Angmar's fall. And, in my hands, it will ensure that fell realm remains a ruin."
Xandilif raised her voice again. Though, when she spoke, the language she used sounded foreign to all there with bits of Westron and Sindarin mixed in; a language that the shade seemed unable to ignore. "You have no power here, far from the crags of the spawn of the Iron Crown. If you say otherwise, let your champion face myself, sworn to the Faithful. Creature from beyond, who did you serve, and where did you walk? Answer!"
The specter shied away from SilverWand again, as if burned, but did not lower his arrow. Instead he pointed it toward Finchley. "It is her fault, the Banished Witch of Aughaire. It is her fault that the Unsealed did not allow me to rest! And her fault that they have placed me here to have my revenge! A thousand curses upon her bones! May they remain un-mourned and accursed!"
Finchley stared up at the shade, wide-eyed and shaking her head repeatedly. Hawk’s arms encircled her as Xanderian move in front of her, back towards the arrow that was aimed at her. “Just a child,” the woman whispered as tears filled her eyes.
“Child it was once, but is now far older than you,” whispered Xanderian, holding the woman tighter.
Xandilif nodded once and spoke again, this time in Westron. "If the Unsealed placed you here, then you are no friend of ours. How did these bones wrong the Unsealed?"
The shade looks to the Champion and then threw his head back, laughing cruelly. He aimed his arrow towards the elf again. “Wronged them?! Ha! She helped them! She helped them until she fled and turned tail! Coward could not even face her crimes! It was me she wronged! Me and so many others. She betrayed us! She betrayed her people!”
Finchley let go of her hip, her brand still burning, and clutched at Xan as she watched the shade’s exchange with Xandilif, expression becoming one of anguish. "Grams, what have you done?" she whispered as tears fell to run down her cheeks once again. "He was just a child..."
"Her people?" asked Xandilif, SilverWand still held aloft and blazing like torch. "Your people as well then? Trév Gállorg?"
The specter growled in anger again though now it seemed to struggle to keep his bow properly aimed. "She betrayed us all! She listened to those who trespassed on our lands and spoke lies. She led us to our doom in the service of the Guild. And now I cannot rest. I will not rest! She has gone beyond this sphere and escaped my wrath. But I have been given a chance... I want my revenge!"
The Champion nodded. "We will seek your revenge against the Unsealed – those who destroyed you, in the name of the Trév Gállorg. These bones and the child she protected are not your foe."
"Lif, wait!" cried out Finchley, attempting to escape from Xanderian and Hawk’s protective hold on her, one hand reaching over the elf’s shoulder towards the shade as more tears ran in rivers down her cheeks. "He was just a child! What had she done to hurt you? Please, let me hear you out. Every word. Every bad thing... You didn't deserve it."
The specter remained still, seething with rage. He stared at the woman in silence, as if considering something, and then, finally lowered his bow. He descended closer to the ground and moved closer to her, anger stalled in the face of unlooked for compassion. "You... What is she to you? Why did you cry over the Witch of Aughaire?"
"Small Finchley, be careful," whispered Xanderian as she and Hawk reluctantly released Finchley, seeing that she would not be deterred in this.
"Because I loved her very much," answered Finchley after wiping some of her tears from her face. She stepped forward with an uneven gait, as if still in some amount of pain. She knelt down on one knee before the small shade and reached out to him with both hands, palms up, as one usually did when speaking to children to assure them that they were being listened to.
"Loved her?" the specter scoffed. "She is not one deserving of love. One such of her is not capable of it." He stayed still, looking Finchley over again as some of his rage seemed to dissipate. He stepped forward, bow and arrow vanishing, but then paused and looked to the rest of the company with suspicion.
Xandilif, not liking this at all, lowered the sword, resting its point down in the earth. "We are simple attendants here. Make your case to her, Shade." Nethrida, Eduwiges, and Hawk looked none to pleased with this turn of events but also followed suit, lowering their weapons but not their vigilance.
The shade looked visibly relieved when SilverWand was lowered and took another step forward, reaching out with skeletal hands. He hesitated for a moment more before his demeanor seemed to change slightly. Hot rage gave way to sorrow and pain and he looked more like hurt child he was in life. He rested his spectral hands atop Finchley’s outstretched ones and regarded her as a wounded dog does a helping hand.
Finchley couldn’t help but to shiver at the sensation of the coldest wind across her palms. "What is your name?"
"I forgot," replied the specter, sorrowfully. "Like many given to the Unsealed, I forgot my name."
Finchley smiled wryly, as that statement drew more tears from her eyes. "How about we give you a new one? Like... Robin. That's a nice name. So, Robin, tell me everything. Tell me what happened to you. What did my Gr—What did the Witch of Aughaire do to you?"
The shade hesitated for a moment more. Then, his sigh echoed across the graveyard as his spectral form slumped a bit. His voice became quieter, the rest of his anger fading away to leave behind a sad, scared child. "My sister and I wanted to go play among the herds. But no one would take us because it was dangerous. Moyna came back from her wandering and said she would. She said she'd take us to where the aurochs had headed for the day and we could play there. We followed her for miles and miles until we didn't know where we were anymore. The sky was dark and angry. My sister was scared… But she told us that she knew where they were. It was just a little further, she said. But Moyna didn't lead us to the herd..."
The shade paused and shivered as Finchley nodded, vision blurred by her tears. "It’s okay… Tell me, Robin."
The specter let out a sound that was halfway between a growl and a cry. "We shouldn't have trusted her. Children had gone missing months before. People said she spent more time getting herbs than she needed to. They said that maybe Moyna spoke too long to the bad sorcerers that came to ask for our clan’s friendship... But Moyna helped my sister get born. Moyna healed the sick before. We trusted her… The bad men came and took my sister away! It was too dark! I could hear her screaming but I couldn't see her anymore! And they dropped me into a cold, dark place where the sun never shone!"
Xandilif nodded softly as the shade’s form curled in on itself, still gripping Finchley’s hands like a lifeline. "That's the Unsealed for you. Kill and raise what can’t travel, herd what can be herded."
"But I heard whispers," continued the shade, young voice growing desperate. "Whispers in the dark! There was no one there with me but some of them sounded familiar, like some of my friends that had gone missing... And then they came for me. And it hurt! Everything hurt! And my sister was gone! I don't know what they did to her!"
Finchley listened attentively still, though, she openly wept now, compassion for the child spirit’s sorrow overwhelming her almost completely.
"And then there was nothing. But I was still there. I asked them where my sister was. They said it didn't work with her but that I had to stay because I couldn't leave now… I tried! I tried to leave! But I couldn't. I couldn't leave Carn Dûm or go to wherever my sister went. They left me like that, wandering and watching."
"But what changed?" asked Xanderian "Why were you sent here for vengeance?"
"I saw her sometimes," continued the specter. "Moyna. She came and went until, one day, she came and refused to help them anymore... They punished her. Said she would slowly lose that which was most precious to her. But she didn't lose her life like she deserved. She ran and took some of the children with her. But it was too late for them... She couldn't wash all that from her hands! She wasn't sorry! SHE GOT TO LEAVE WHILE I HAD TO STAY AND WATCH FOR ALL THIS TIME!"
"She was!" cried Finchley as she shook her head and gripped the skeletal hands held in her own tightly as she may, though it felt like gripping exceptionally cold air. "She was… She was sorry. I promise you, Robin, she regretted it very much. She paid for so many years."
The shade froze and looked to Finchley, as if unsure; clearly wanting to hold onto his hurt but also filled with hope for something better and childish curiosity. "... How do you know that? Why were you crying over her?"
Finchley hung her head as her tears fell to the dirt. "She was my Grams,” she replied, a small, shaky smile forming on her lips. “She loved me. She took me in when I was left with her and raised me like her own. She gave me everythin' I ever needed and I never wanted for anythin'. She saw my good days, my bad days, and everythin' in between. She was there when I woke up in the mornin' and there when I went to sleep. She gave me a name and all her best efforts. She loved me and I loved her. She gave me so much happiness and kept almost none for herself... I watched as her sight disappeared more and more, and she never complained, even when she lost it all... But I think it bothered her more than she would tell me."
The spirit looked somewhat troubled and puzzled that the one he had deemed responsible for his unending misery could save a life rather than ruin it or take it away. But, he did not take his gaze away from Finchley, watching her intently as she continued on with tears and sincerity.
"She never shared her troubles with me. She bore it all on her own for all those years and I think she suffered quietly for it... Robin, she was sorry. She was more sorry than all the words in the world could express. And she suffered and paid for it, I promise you. Allow me to say in her place that I am so sorry. For her, I beg your forgiveness. One day, it is my hope that you will get the justice you deserve. I will try to get it for you if I can. So... you don't have to hold onto this anymore, aye? You don't have to stay here and take revenge and you don't have to be a tool for the Unsealed… Robin, you can be free now, if you like."
"Whatever vengeance needs to be given out belongs to someone else," said Lif. "And is for someone else to deliver."
The shade merely looked at Finchley for a moment longer, studying her face and trying to gauge her obvious sincerity. His spectral form shivered again and he nodded once. "… I believe you, name-giver." He let go of her hands and moved back, looking toward everyone else, previous anger completely replaced with tentative hope and a clear desire to lay down a burden of some kind. "... Can I really be free if I like? Do you all promise?"
Xandilif nodded. "Your name-giver has my oath. So do you, Robin of the Trév Gállorg."
“I promise,” replied Xanderian, taking Hawk’s hand in her own as they both nodded. Eduwiges and Nethrida, still somewhat confused and on guard, nodded as well.
The child specter took a brief moment to consider something to himself in silence. At last, nodded again and spoke, voice calm and perhaps even a little happy, as if some dreadful weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he could breathe easier, though breathing was something he could never do again. "Okay…" A chill wind blew through the graveyard again as his small form began to slowly, but surely, fade away like the moon did upon the sun’s rising. "If I see my sister again, I'll tell her my new name… Name-giver, you look just a lot like her."
Finchley nodded and stood once more, a bittersweet smile on her face as her tears continued to fall. "Like who, Robin? Moyna?"
The wind blew through the trees again and in the blink of an eye, Robin had vanished from their sight. The malicious etching of a circle with three lines running through it also faded away from the stone of the grave, as if it had never been there at all.
"No," his voice echoed through the graveyard like a loud whisper. “Like the slave who never forgot her name…"
----
Farewell to all the earthly remains. No burdens, no further debts to be paid.
