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Caron mourns for his chapel in Caed Nua; for the graveyard he had made a beautiful and shaded place; for the souls he was meant to see through the world in their normal time which now must be cut from the cycle in Eothas's adra titan, even as his chest still rings with the Pallid Knight's command.
To see the Pallid Knight again, to hear her voice. To feel the chiming of bells through his soul.
A rude awakening, to be taken by pirates and dashed upon the shores, and worse still to see souls standing on the beach, denied the Wheel and the natural way of the world. To have no time to relish Berath's presence, and to then see this terrible thing, these souls lingering where their last bodies died.
He tells the souls to follow him, because it is better than leaving them alone on the shore. He goes to Port Maje. He looks for the next step on his path, as he always has.
It is Engwithan ruins, as it too frequently is.
At least these ruins, crawling with animancers as they may be, bring him one welcome surprise. Caron barely schools his face when he sees Aloth standing in the cage, and the only reason he manages it is Aloth's expression—trapped somewhere between surprise, delight, and fear, if Caron has not forgotten Aloth's moods. He is not sure if Aloth is aware of how much Caron can read in the quirk of his lips and the set of his eyes.
Instead of saying any of the words that rest in his heart, instead of smiling so wide the corners of his mouth will hide under the shield of his face, Caron allows himself to be introduced to "Engferth" and gladly accepts a so-called stranger into his group.
Aloth promises to explain later, once they're off Port Maje, and Caron feels—
Caron feels many things. He feels a comfort in knowing that they have been apart for five years, and now they are here, and a day or a week on Maje will make no difference. They have been apart, and they are together.
He feels a desperate itching in his palms, the ghost of Aloth's hand on Aedelwan Bridge, and a need, nearly deeper than his patience, for so many things he scarcely wants to name. For word of where Aloth's road has taken him, and for Aloth's hand—softer than Caron's own but larger—between his palms, and for things he is not sure Aloth would want.
But his patience runs deeper.
In a matter of days, they will stand in the belly of the repaired Defiance, and Aloth will tell him of desperate times, of mistakes that cost too many lives, of deep doubts, and Caron will take Aloth's hand between his, a mourner's comfort, for what is Aloth if not mourning? And Caron will tell Aloth of the rightness of his path, of the rightness of the gods, and hope to soothe the weight on his soul. They will talk about the burden of leadership, which weighs on Caron's shoulders much as it does Aloth's, though he bears it better.
It is easy to make mistakes, where other kith are involved. The most well intended order can spin off into the world and become many things. Caron has accepted this, and he would help Aloth accept it.
But for now, Caron will set this place to rights. The world does not wait.