The next day, after the medics were certain they were recovering well, Era and Gabriel were allowed to go home.
“Finally,” Gabriel muttered as they walked out the door, “I was going a little stir-crazy in there. Kind of like when we got thrown in jail, except the stink was gone.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Era said with a smile. “The medics were very friendly.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Outside, a carriage was waiting for their arrival. “Guess you really are pretty important, Era,” Gabriel joked.
“It seems that way,” he said, a little thrown off.
They climbed in and told the driver where they were headed, and the 30-minute walk became a 10-minute ride back to Gabriel’s house.
“Home sweet home!” Gabriel said happily, “Again!”
Era smiled as he walked in the door, setting his staff down in its usual spot. “Everything’s the same,” he said, “except us.”
“Yeah, that’s a bit of a weird feeling,” Gabriel admitted.
“Oh well.” He collapsed into his usual spot on the sofa. “Do you think Jarred’s doing alright?”
“Well, the funeral’s in three days. I guess we’ll find out then, eh?”
“True.” Era readjusted himself, deep in thought. “I hope he’ll be okay.”
“He’s tough. Don’t worry about him. You concentrate more on your own happiness, alright?”
“Okay,” he said quietly. But that was what I was doing before, Era thought, and look how that turned out.
The pair went about their typical evening routine as they got resettled in, and it was a comfort to both of them. The familiar setting and habits did a lot to ease their frayed nerves and unsettled psyches. They both went to their respective beds that night more at ease than they dared to believe they could be so soon after such a catastrophe.
The next morning, a knock at the door woke Era. Smoothing down his hair, he slowly got to his feet. “Coming,” he called.
Opening the door, he found himself face-to-face with two palace guards. “Is there something I can help you with, good sirs?” he asked quietly.
Both saluted in unison. “Yes, milord,” one of them said. “Your presence, former Archmage, is requested at the castle as soon as you are able to leave.”
“What? Why?” he asked, caught off-guard.
“We seek information from you and your traveling companions about the death of Archmage Surront,” he explained. “We understand, from your description, that his murder was done in self-defense, but the King requests your presence so he, himself, can hear the full story.”
“I… see,” he said. “You want both Gabriel and I to come?”
“And your other companion as well,” he added. “We understand that one of your group perished in that fight. We are truly sorry for your loss.”
“It’s… it’s fine,” he said. “Well, Gabriel and I should be able to make it, but Jarred is currently mourning the death of his fiancé. If it’s any help, though, he was unconscious for most of the fight.”
“I see,” he said, nodding. “Well, if his presence is needed, we will summon him independently. In the meantime, would you and Dalgard be able to leave in an hour?”
“An hour!?” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know you meant that soon! We just got home, I…”
“Forgive me, milord,” he apologized, “but this is a very serious matter. The sooner you are both there to say your piece, the sooner we can have order restored and a new Archmage instated.”
“Yes, that’s true,” he admitted. “Let me wake Gabriel.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Well, this is a first,” Gabriel said with his face still buried in his pillow. “Bah, tell the King to wait. I need my beauty sleep.”
“I think this is a little more important, Gabriel,” Era said, grinning.
“Nothing is more important than my good looks! Gabriel Dalgard, ladykiller extraordinaire, must always look his finest!” He rolled over, chuckling, and slowly rose from bed. “Give me like twenty minutes. I’ll be down there.”
“Alright.” Era started towards the door. “You can always sleep in the carriage, you know.”
“Very true. I didn’t think of that.”
Half an hour later, they were on their way back to Elsequaire.
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