It was early enough in the morning that the sun had yet to rise. The sole sources of light in the sky were the stars and the moon - and they were doing a woefully inadequate job. Had the nights always been so dark? Maybe, and he had just never noticed. Or maybe it was just a matter of circumstance - when the world seemed bleak, maybe it influenced his perception. Who could say. Usually, he was good enough at pushing such things from his mind, or at least to the furthest corners of it. And when they did rear their heads, he flat out denied them. Quite simply, they were things he could not bear to believe, nor accept to be true.
In the silence of the moment, though, there was a dire lack of distractions or other objects of focus. And thus, the thoughts he usually suppressed threatened to claw their way from hiding.
What if he fell? What if others did? What if they all failed? What would come of their souls? What if that one soul really had been-
He arrived, managed to silence such thoughts once more, and took a seat.
Underneath the lemon tree.
“She’s grown up to be a wonderful woman, you know.”
He spoke aloud, alone as he was. In that spot, he liked to think he was heard, even if he would never get a response.
“Married, heiress, a lovely family for herself. I don’t think I could be any happier for her.”
It had been years - decades - since such had become something of an occasional practice of his. He still recalled the funeral, the miserable day which it was. The hollow, empty feeling which then plagued him for some months afterwards. In time, he had eventually found that stopping by the tree and talking helped. It did not make it go away entirely; such was something only time could do, and only partially at that. But, speaking as if she was there, listening, brought him some peace of mind.
“Ardghal is alright, too, I think. Though I do not see him often, I am confident he is doing well in whatever he is doing.”
In previous times, the view from the tree looking east had been a beautiful thing. Through a short stretch of trees straight to the east, one could see the canyon leading down to the river which divided the midlands and plains, and Petra’s city of Vallagne lay beyond. Ildic sat on the same side as he and the tree, just off to the right, finally enclosed within those walls which he recalled being such a cause of fret all that time ago. Come early enough in the morning, and one would be treated to a grand sunrise over it all.
“... Sometimes I’m jealous of you. You didn’t have to see and experience all this. Lucky you, ha!”
Jokes were good, sometimes. This time, not so much. It hurt a bit more than it humored.
Indeed, it was a dark jest, in which some truth was laden. What had once been a serene view had since been marred some. Vallagne, though reclaimed, still bore scars and signs of ruin from the battles fought to wrest control of it back from the forces which permeated the continent, and were still poised to bring it all to ruin. The same forces which had, inadvertently, caused him grief for the majority of his life now.
But it was not just the battles and ruination wrought by some maddened, ambitious deity that evoked such a sentiment. Though pressing and devastating, that was at least unambiguous, easy to wrap one’s head around, and difficult to have any differing opinions on. If anything, such was nearly a uniting force in the current day.
Nearly.
“... It’s been different, these last couple years. I’ve managed to persevere so far, but that doesn’t mean it hasn’t been a struggle sometimes.”
More than anything, it was the temporal which had come to trouble him. Nothing truly magical, nor of a nature beyond his comprehension. Affairs of the mortal and mostly-mundane, of which he was painfully capable of understanding. He often wondered what their discussions on such things would have been like.
Would she have been in favor of and supportive towards the Empire, as he had been for a time, or would she have vehemently opposed such, as he knew many others who had been close to her had?
What would she have then said about his own conflicting feelings for it that had arisen recently?
How could he have explained to her the disdain he had come to have for her own kingdom?
And these were just some of the topics which would have been unavoidable, matters of widespread interest to the public at large. There was still far more.
All he had seen. All he knew. All he kept secret. Could he have withheld such?
All questions that would forever go unanswered. Perhaps for the better, he knew. Still, often he wondered; had life gone just a bit differently, just a handful of different choices or timings in the actions of himself and others, how different could things have been? Who could say. Perhaps in another life, he would have lived and died as a dedicated bannerman of the Exilic Kingdom, wishing nothing more than to see his house succeed. But that was just a hypothetical. In all likelihood, troubles and trials would have arisen along such a path as well.
“... It may be some time before we get to talk again. Don’t hold it against me, alright?”
Whatever was to happen, it felt obvious that calamity was to come. How long it would last, where it would leave him, if he would even survive; all questions he did not know the answer to. All he knew was that he felt some obligation, however pointless and idiotic, to apologize for the chance of an extended absence.
It went beyond just the time he anticipated being away for. The more he thought about it, the more it occurred to him. It would not feel right to just talk as he did anywhere. This spot was… it was the spot he had settled upon. It was where doing so felt right.
How could he do so anywhere else?
He rose to his feet, as that sunrise just began to crest over the horizon.
“Say a prayer for me, or something. Lord knows we’ll all need it.”
Reaching up, he plucked a handful of lemons from some branches.
“And, say a prayer that wherever I end up, the climate is right.”
With a few cuts from a small knife, he had fetched some seeds from the fruits. Enough to ensure there would be spares in case some failed to grow, and then some.
It was time to go. The last fight was coming, after all.
“We’ll talk again, once it's all over. Promise.”