[Spicy Serious]

Straying near the steep cliffs along Esshar’s shore, facing out to the south. One might come across nearly two dozen stones. One might think them a natural feature, were they not the size of men, with well-cared for runes carved upon them. And a woman standing in front of the largest.

”It’s been some time sin’ we la’ talked, eh Sieg? I couldnae even bring myself tah pray over th’ empty boat fer you lot. Jus’...did mah work ah suppose.”

The woman sighs, tone almost inaudible as she kneels. “I failed ya again. All I ever seem tah do at th’ end o’ the day. Fail an’ fail. No matter ‘ow much penance ah seek.” Her hands pull free the blindfold kept around her head. Letting the silk fall prey to gravity as the hollow, scarred sockets bore into the standing stone.

”I couldn’ keep ‘er safe in th’ end. But...she met an end any Vanirhallan Woul’ be proud o’. She carried ‘erself wit’ honor and strength. I thin’ you can rest easy wit’ that much. At least ah know I can guide a few children towards happier lives ‘fore they die.” The blind face inclined towards some of the empty spot near her. Near the stone.

”Ah’ll carve ‘er a nice, grand stone li’ yours. Dunnae know iffin’ she’d want tah be next to ya. But families stay together...” Her voice trails off, trying to clear out a sudden hitch in her throat. A few stray drops of water catching the sun as they fall. “...I-I’ll...come by more...often. T-Talk to ya more...”

The sand in front of her is dotted with patches of water by now. A pathetic, strangled sob forcing it’s way out of her throat. “I-I can’t Sieg. Ah can’t keep actin’ strong. Ah never-...ne-never was stron’, no’ like any o’ you.” Tears and sobs flow freely now. Doubling the woman over as strands of black tar begin to slip free from the woman.

”Why di’ ya make me th’ last one...w-why do I ‘ave tah watch them die, over an’ over...” There was no strength to be found on that shore. There were no promises to be better. There were no words of encouragement, no heroic statements.

There was nothing to find but an old, crippled woman. Finally grieving her children after nearly thirty years of being ‘strong’. And the innocent question of ‘why’.