Heir Of Novron: The Riyria Revelations

“I am sure your family in Vernes will be happy to see you return.”

 

 

He smiled and, dipping his head, removed his chain of office and placed it in her hands.

 

“Where’s your horse?” Hadrian asked.

 

“I don’t need one,” Nimbus replied.

 

“I think the empire can spare at least that much,” Modina told him.

 

“I am certain it can, Your Eminence, but I honestly prefer walking.”

 

It took another round of hugs, kisses, waves, and wishes of safe travels before Royce, Mercedes, and Nimbus actually started down the slope. Allie ran alongside all the way to the trees and then waved madly before turning and running back to Modina.

 

Nimbus walked with them and Royce was careful to keep a slow, even pace.

 

They entered the forest and soon lost all sight of the palace, the city, and the hill. They traveled in silence, listening to the morning symphony of birdsongs and honeybees. Mercedes was mesmerized by her new pet.

 

“What’s my pony’s name?” she asked.

 

“I don’t think it has one yet. Would you like to name it?”

 

“Oh yes… Let me see… What’s yours called, Daddy?”

 

“Mine is Mouse. The empress gave her that name.”

 

Mercedes crinkled her nose. “I don’t like that. Is mine a boy or a girl?”

 

“Boy,” Royce told her.

 

“Boy… okay, hmm.” She tapped her lips with a perplexed expression, then furrowed her brow in serious thought.

 

“How about Elias?” Nimbus suggested. “Or perhaps Sterling.”

 

Royce stared at the ex-chancellor, who smiled pleasantly in return.

 

“Sterling is nice,” Mercedes said.

 

The forest thinned and they reached the open field where the old road crossed the new ones, freshly pressed by holiday travelers, leading west to Ratibor and north to Colnora. A short distance away a group of riders in gold and blue on white mounts waited.

 

“This is where we part,” Nimbus told them.

 

Royce stared at the thin man in the wig. “Who are you really?”

 

Nimbus smiled. “You already know that.”

 

“If it hadn’t been for you…” Royce paused. “I’ve always regretted that I never said thank you.”

 

“And I wish to thank you as well, Royce.”

 

He was puzzled. “For what?”

 

“For reminding me that anyone, no matter what they’ve done, can find redemption if they seek it.”

 

The thin man turned and walked down the road toward Ratibor. Royce watched him go, then turned to his daughter. “Let’s go visit the elves, shall we?” he asked. Just then, thunder cracked from overhead, shaking the ground and rustling the leaves on the trees.

 

Royce looked up at the clear blue sky, confused.

 

“Look!” Mercedes said, pointing down the road.

 

Royce turned to see Nimbus standing still, his head bent back, his eyes looking up.

 

A white feather drifted downward. It swirled, blowing on a gentle breeze until it was close enough that the tall spindly man in the white powdered wig reached up and caught it between his fingers. He kissed it gently, then slipped it into his leather pouch. He pulled the bag closed and continued on his way, whistling a merry tune, until he passed behind a hill and was gone.

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