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“We’re here-”
Ogrim was brought slightly into clarity by the stag stopping, words sounding far off. The distant smell of the stag nest waved over him, and Mato gently pushed his shoulder. It made him remember he was still in Mato’s cloak.
“Are you-” Mato tried to ask, but his pain took his voice swiftly. Ogrim blinked, waving at him to show him his dissociation hadn’t completely taken all of his senses. “There you are-”
Mato took a deep breath, trying to swallow the feeling of these spikes that lived in his arm it seemed. It was definitely just his nerves being injured but it felt like gross spikes!
Ogrim had nothing to say, but he pushed Mato’s headband again in a comforting gesture before hopping off the stag. He stood, tiredly and with legs that needed to cease their shaking.
Mato looked at him and realized they still had the walk to his hut if Ogrim wanted to take it with him. He needed to ask…
For now, at least they’re here. In the last stretch. All Mato had to do was jump off the stag and walk with him for a few more minutes. It was almost over.
Just a little jump.
So he leapt off the stag and the moment he landed the regret set in. He fell to a kneel, gripping under his wound.
“Gh!” He sucked in a gasp, definitely not expecting such recoil. Pain shot through him, and his vision started swimming just enough to make him extremely uncomfortable.
Ogrim gasped as well, going to his side. Despite his tired fuzziness, what he said was true. He'd take care of him too. "Mato!" He finally spoke after the grating silence of the stag ride.
"Oh-" The stag grunted as Ogrim crouched to assess Mato’s state. "That's- why we don't like letting the injured use the lines unless in an emergency-"
Mato shook his head, struggling to breathe past the pain. "I'm fine...just, that wasn't-that was not wise-" Ogrim put his claw around his back, rubbing it comfortingly as he does for him.
"Oh, Mato...Hold onto me, can you stand?" Ogrim's voice was still slightly hoarse like he needed even more water.
After breathing it all out, Mato stood on his own, but Ogrim still held him as he did.
"I've got it." Mato tried to say, but Ogrim simply stated, "I've got you too."
Seeing him tiredly wearing his cloak made Mato feel like they were in a very bad way so continuing to allow himself to be vulnerable was hard. Especially when they just needed to leave this nest. Rest and recoup.
Mato stood by himself, letting Ogrim go. "I'll say a quick goodbye, and we can get...the last little things taken care of," Ogrim said, and Mato just nodded.
Ogrim approached the Stag, holding the sides of the cloak just to do something with his claws.
“Thank you for helping us, dear stag…I will see you soon. My…apologies for worrying you all this time…”
The stag shook his head, “You go on now, my friend. I’m wishing you all the wellness after whatever you’ve gone through. You and your friend leave…go eat something, and let yourself rest too. I have faith you both will be alright, just keep me posted on what’s going on, okay?”
Ogrim’s eyes became glossy again, and he just bent down to give the stag a small headbutt. “...thank you…”
The stag lightly headbutted back, and with a teary smile to nuture that faith, Ogrim parted and regarded Mato.
They nodded at each other, and right as they went to leave, the stag turned and ran out of the nest. Another bell the two of them couldn’t hear.
They looked at each other, wondering what that was. Mato shrugged a little bit, and they made their way into the nest.
Mato got the biggest shock when he saw the first dead stag, slumped on the floor against another one. And another, next to another sitting by another.
They were everywhere.
He put a hand on the bottom of his mask, stunned just like he was in the Garden. Ogrim walked by them, stepping around them respectfully. Ogrim gently gestured for Mato to follow.
“Ogrim…” Mato cleared his throat, trying not to cough on the smell of…it all. “This is where…this is where you’ve been? Stewing in this?”
“Ah-Well- I stayed, over here-” Ogrim pointed deeper in the nest, but Mato still didn’t move. “Gah… still, my friend…you…I don’t blame you for this but this setting is vile for one’s health…”
Ogrim shook his head and held out his claw for Mato. Mato gingerly started walking through and patted on his shoulder instead of taking Ogrim’s claw.
They’ll talk about it later.
He guided him to the deeper unit, which was a remarkably tall room. Chains were all about them, running up and down the entire place. A pressure plate beneath them clicked and brought down a small pulley-based elevator.
It was remarkably cleaner…but something still felt off about it to Mato. This was no environment for the kind of beetle Ogrim is. He knew it.
It was a surprise no longer as to why each time they met Ogrim was more dehydrated than a fool eater in the blazing heat.
They both stepped on the little lift, and it carried them to the top with click after click. A weight moved down, sending them up efficiently enough.
When they were at the top, Mato could look across the gap and see another gut-punch of repressed sadness.
Unhatched eggs. All along the sides of the walls just out of their reach. Likely all gone cold from illness or fatigue of the egg-bound parent…
Dead stags and unhatched eggs…and Ogrim lived here while processing his grief poorly.
No wonder he broke so fast at the slightest nudge from Mato about it! He was practically teetering on the edge the entire time and this place did not help!
He hoped if the stag knew of all this, he’d be alright…
When he feels physically better, he may relay the information, just in case.
“...Ogrim,” Mato stated, and Ogrim was just staring at the same thing he was. “...Yes, I’ve checked over there. There’s not…the majority didn’t make it…”
“...Come home with me,” Mato said, instead, making Ogrim startle. No asking, no debate, he decided.
Ogrim looked away but didn’t object. “We’ll talk about new arrangements soon, let's just go to my home for now.” Mato turned to what he presumed to be the exit, and Ogrim could only follow.
The winds were so comforting for Mato to feel against his mask. It was much colder because Ogrim had his cloak, but he just enjoyed it a lot more than the pouring water of the city.
The two of them stood on the little cliff and let the winds hold them for a moment.
Then Mato looked down and groaned when he realized this was a much larger cliff than he expected. He had to understand his limits for once with this one. “I can’t climb down this…”
Ogrim blinked, an exclamation point practically above his head. “Oh no- I didn’t account- for that. Let’s see what I can do…”
Mato tilted his head and yelped when Ogrim simply scooped him up into his claws. “Oh-!” Mato winced, his arm awkwardly pressing against Ogrim’s chest plate and the straps of the cloak.
“Sorry, sorry…” He tried to lean so it wasn’t harming him.
“I’m… surprised you can…pick me up…but I shouldn’t be…you are very tough…” Mato stammered a bit. “You don’t have to-” He tried to say, but Ogrim shook his head.
“We share this comfort and support now. This is the best way I can think of to handle this. Deep breath, brace yourself.”
“Brace myself?”
“On the count of three.” Ogrim clarified, stepping towards the cliff. “One…two…” Ogrim rocked a bit, before leaping off without another thought, “Three!”
“AAHH!” Mato yelped, more in pain than shock as they went down.
The fall was shorter than it seemed, and despite his shakiness from his grief, Ogrim stuck the landing. He didn't even run into the grave of the wise slug this time! But Mato’s gasping felt like a smack to the wall anyways.
He put him down and let him hold onto the nearby lumafly lamp to breathe. “Ow…ow…ow…”
Ogrim felt incredibly bad for all of the jolts Mato had been taking on that wound, but the hut was very close by. It would definitely need a redressing. “My apologies for the harsh landing, Mato-”
Mato let go of the pole and wagged his finger behind him. “No, no that was good- That was-hsss-” Mato tried to comfort without even looking at him, pulling his arm back into that crossed position.
“It’s fine, I’ll be fine- This will heal in a few sleeps even-”
Ogrim somehow doubted that. Maybe Mato was just talking so he wouldn’t feel dizzy or cry again. Residual emotions from trying to be the strong anchor, this stuff wouldn’t just go away.
Just like Ogrim’s pain wouldn’t either.
Mato turned to him and got his lay of the land. With the grave of the great mind, he knew his hut was likely…south? Directions were hard when it was something he knew like the back of his hand.
“I always remember the way by the nails outside your abode,” Ogrim said, as Mato took the lead in that direction.
“I placed them all there myself, for that very reason. They’re also…all very broken.” Mato held himself tight against the winds as they walked, the wind beating on him. It was a comfort but in his state, quickly became obnoxious.
The first nail came in sight fast, and relief came with it. The cave shaded them, and they both subconsciously walked faster like the solace of a familiar place would disappear if they were too slow.
They were home. Back to where it started. That sleepless eve where Ogrim startled Mato awake with the statement he wanted to embark on this journey felt like it was so long ago.
To think this all started about one sleep ago…he and Ogrim had seen so much so fast. Learned a fair bit about each other.
And in many ways, they were starved.
Aching wounds came before any types of hunger though.
Resisting the urge to collapse onto his beloved piles of pillows, Mato made his way in and started searching for the rest of his medical supplies.
Ogrim noticed, and took the supplies out from the inside of the cloak. He put them on the ground.
“I’ll sort…i’ll take care of that later-” Mato stated, but Ogrim just pulled out the extra bandages.
“Oh yeah, right, pasting and rebandaging.”
“And slinging.” Ogrim reminded him, and Mato just sighed. Ah yes, slinging. That will make hunting sooo much fun.
Quietly, Ogrim and Mato set up a little self-care station for Mato. Some water, an empty basin, a few cloths, a thin blanket for the sling, paste, and bandages. It was all he needed and with that, they could finally sit and reflect.
Sighs filled the air as they let themselves relax, even if Mato was already holding his arm over the basin to unwrap his wound.
Ogrim sat on some pillows and laid down, ready to sit up to help Mato if need be, but exhaustion was taking him too.
Mato was glad the basin caught some of the blood, as he didn't feel like cleaning up after it. He used the bandages to sweep some of it out of the way, disliking the position and depth of the wound but that was his own fault for pulling sideways instead of straight out.
At least it might have looked cool as he won the battle, apparently.
He dipped one of the cloths into the chilled water and pressed it against the wound to clean it. He crossed his legs, hissing to himself as the water dripped from the cloth he pushed against the inside of the wound.
He had to be thorough, lest he get a common infection. The diluted watery blood funneled into the basin, and so did the dust of the city that Ogrim worried about.
The grime of the accident flowed away with the nasty feelings, but boy did it sting!
“Do you…” Ogrim sat up as Mato moved to pat it dry so he could paste it, just to make sure his plates would heal properly. He dried it with fast motions because of the relentless stinging, but stated, “I have it. You rest, drink water like the stag said. I left a pitcher there.”
“Are you saying that because you do have it, or because of, you know...”
“I have bandaged my own wounds before, these cliffs are no cakewalk to live in. False strength of will does not fuel me here as it can in other places.”
Ogrim hummed, sleepily. “If you do need assistance, though. Even through fatigue…”
“I know…I know.” Mato waved his hand, putting down the dry cloth to open the paste. “If I need help…I’ll let you know.”
He said as he unscrewed the paste's lid and removed it to use its built-in grassy brush.
Then he applied it to the gash, globbing it around slowly and carefully. He pushed around it, keeping his arm in the position that he wanted to sling it in.
Ogrim poured himself a bowl of water as Mato continued to tend to the wound. He drank it quickly, reminding Mato of talks they must have. He’ll get to it in time.
While Mato finished with the paste and moved on to the bandages, Ogrim took a deep breath after guzzling down his water. He put the bowl down and looked at the floor.
Trying to fill his mind before it could drift off into haziness once more, he reached into his armor and pulled out Hegemol’s broken seal.
“Oh…” Mato quietly hummed at him, as he pressed the bandage against the wound and let the paste act as an adhesive to it as well as his shell.
He wrapped it around as Ogrim studied the seal. He made sure the bandage was tight.
Ogrim rubbed his claw against it, and asked lightly, “Do you…know what comes after this?”
“...I know what you mean, but I think in the short term, we need to sleep.”
“Long term, my friend.” Ogrim wanted to sadly chuckle at that. Mato dropped the roll of bandages and grabbed a nail to cut the excess off. “...I can’t give you all the answers for that.”
“...I know.” Ogrim kept looking down at the seal as Mato tucked the bandage properly.
It was much cleaner now and felt so much better. It would feel even more better after another smear of lifeblood, but Mato would just bite the bullet and eat some later. He didn't want to have Ogrim do it, nor wash his hands again.
“...I can help you figure it out, in time. Do you…have any ideas? What do you want to come from the long term?” He asked, grabbing the blanket to try and sling it himself. A very hard task.
Ogrim put down the seal and took the blanket from him to try to help. “...Things I can’t physically achieve I’d presume.”
Mato looked down as Ogrim wrapped the blanket over him, able to get it in a proper sling position but struggling a touch on tying it. “...if you wish, try to put it on the table. And I’ll sort it for you.”
Ogrim mentally winced at that, looking to the side to see Hegemol’s seal on the ground. He messed with the edges of the blanket, using his claws to cross them over each other, but he struggled on pulling it tied.
“...I want…” He started, but his throat felt like it could close on him at any statement of perceived selfishness.
“You want?” Mato tilted his head a bit, giving Ogrim full permission to delve right into it. No judgment.
Ogrim sighed, and said quietly, “...I want to find Hegemol and Ze’mer.”
Mato felt him tug on the blanket, and try to bite it to tie it. “When the world-” He paused when Ogrim’s tugging pulled the blanket very tight, but when he let go he could use his hand to adjust it.
“When the world is safer, we can have another trek and hold hope steady.”
Ogrim nodded, and pet down his shoulder to make sure it was smooth and comfortable. A proper, if not messily tied, sling. Mato turned to him, and stated as well “That’s better.”
“I’m glad…”
Mato held up a hand and asked, “What else do you want?” Ah, yes, that wasn’t going to be let go after one affirmation.
“I want…” Ogrim felt the fluff of Mato’s cloak again as if it would supply him with the knowledge of what he wanted.
“...to honor Dryya and Isma better.” He decided on, and Mato just gave him a bittersweet look. Trying to find out his wants and finding more self-critique, classic Ogrim.
He put his hand on his shoulder for a moment and spoke clearly. “You do that by existing just as you are.”
Ogrim knew that was genuine. Mato wouldn’t be anything else than genuine with him here.
So why did it feel so wrong? Like he wasn’t sure what “just as you are” meant to him?
He swallowed it and nodded with a very small smile in his eyes. He’d believe it in time.
“Anything else?”
“...I…would want…” Ogrim reached the far way and pushed the seal so he could grab it again. He went quiet, trying to figure out if he should say what’s on his tongue.
“Anything at all, there’s nothing you can say that I won’t give a solid thought to.”
Ogrim held the seal up for Mato to see, then. “The king…disappeared on us. Long term, I want to figure out where and why.”
Mato blanked at that. Hunting down the king, a god, would be a very hard thing for a simple nailmaster to do-
“...He just…left?” Mato asked, studying the seal too. Ogrim’s eyes went glossy. “It’s the optimistic read…the palace and him were just...gone...poof.”
For all Ogrim knew, the palace imploded and took him with it. He didn’t want to imagine what horrific thing would have to happen to take the life of such a powerful creature.
What would make him outlive the god he swore to protect? Was it better to just imagine the god to be imperfect and fickle instead of cruel?
Ogrim knew it was all cruel anyways, even if it wasn’t personal to him. Cruelty happened.
Death came of it, more would come of it.
It wasn’t something Ogrim could stop. He was just one beetle with a big heart. And so was Mato.
“I…I’m sorry, I’m…we can try, but I don’t think that's in my fieldhouse…” Mato admitted, and Ogrim simply shrugged.
“It would be a courtesy to the people living. I wouldn’t know what to say anyway.” Ogrim wanted to know what happened, mostly.
It'd be very hard at this point to swing back into restoration. The next option was perpetuation.
“I didn’t…get all the details of everything that happened with our king. All I know is that if he left, he left us badly… I…this…scares me to say.” Ogrim’s head ached, fear running down his spine.
“You don’t have to.” Mato tried to say and reach out, but Ogrim just closed his eyes and shook his head. If he was watching him, king beloved would just have to deal.
“Because of that amidst other things…my loyalty as is…is swayed towards…nothingness,” Ogrim admitted, and then covered his mouth right after.
It felt wrong. That felt so wrong coming out but it did. In his voice, it did. He wanted it to, but it felt so bad.
He wanted to curl up in terror at his own doubts, but Mato put his hand on him once more and took a deep breath.
So Ogrim took a deep breath.
“That's okay, Ogrim. You’ve reminded me that if you were harmed by things someone did, you’re well within your right to distance yourself no matter what. I have only been slightly harmed, but you have been greatly… If I was in your spot, I’d have rescinded my loyalty much faster.”
“It’s…more complicated than that.”
“In this world, does it have to be?”
Ogrim went silent, and Mato just tapped on the seal. “You’re grieving so heavily. For those dead and those missing to these ruins. You are also well within your right to grieve for yourself , the kingdom you protected better than those who made it, and the time you’ve spent in what you can see now as a spot that in the end was bad for you.”
Ogrim sighed, knowing he didn’t regret the time he spent in the pale court, but…Grieve for himself? That was allowed? He understood the kingdom and the state the king left them in…but himself?
He needed time to process that…
“When I heal and the world fares better, we can search for Hegemol and Ze’mer, but…let’s not run back to those who’ve hurt us. We deserve to foster better tides and connections.”
Ogrim closed his eyes for a moment and was so pleased that the topic could shift with that. His heart couldn't take it if he had to immediately sit in that.
“...Like you with your family?”
“Oh, we need not talk of that yet- if you still need to speak-”
Turning the tables, Ogrim put his claw on Mato’s forehead. “Simply because my issues feel bigger due to where they lead me to doesn't mean your issues are nothing. They aren’t to me. Your chances are better than mine, Mato. You deserve to put things on the table too, lest I crush it.”
Ogrim laughed at himself, slightly pained by the thought of burdening. It wasn’t. It was a table of troubles they’d sort through with care.
So Ogrim stated, simply. “What do you want?”
Mato groaned a bit because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to weasel out of this, he had nowhere to go. He sighed and fell into thought.
“I want…to visit my brother when I am healed. Would he be happy to see me after so long? I’ve not a clue-”
“I’m sure he’ll love to see you if what you told me was true. If he isn’t, I’ll be there to have some choice words.”
Mato put his hand to the side of his head, smiling slightly. “Please do not duel my brother if he is less than pleased that I waited so long to visit him.”
“I will duel whomever I please for you.” He held his seal close with one claw and pointed to the sling with the other. “Call it amending for that.”
“This was not your fault.”
“Still.”
Despite all the tiredness, stress, and fear that swirled around in that hut, the two could find it in their hearts to laugh. It was all they could do instead of cowering about the stuff on the table and caving.
“Ha…okay…uh...” Everything in threes. Three wants. Mato thought of his second want.
“I want…to keep on my path to achieving mastery so I can see my father again.” At this want, Ogrim shook his head.
“What do you mean? I can do it, it’s just…difficult at times!”
Ogrim waved his claw. “I’m not saying you can’t. Mato, my friend, what you can’t do is put love and care beyond these imaginary walls for you to climb. I fully believe your father loves you, and he’ll love you if you walk around the wall you put up instead of scaling it with one hand behind your back.”
Mato looked down at his sling. “Or…slung in front of you.”
He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. “I’ll try. When I heal, I’ll go to Sheo first…how that goes will show me if I can handle it with my father…it will…likely be harder because you really cannot duel him.”
“Oh-”
“He will win,” Mato said very bluntly, and Ogrim just looked confused. “Either way, I’ll stay by your side through any awkward family meal. It’s the least I can do after you stuck through this always at mine.”
Not knowing what to say to his friend’s father would be nothing compared to the pain he felt in the Queen’s Garden, he’ll happily take that for him.
Mato nodded, not looking at him anymore. “Do you have anything else?”
A third want. What else did Mato want?
“I want a challenge.”
“You challenge my patience.”
He closed his eyes.
“I want…”
I want to let this all go but I can’t until he does first.
I want to punch him until he realizes what he does says more than his words.
I want things to be like they were too.
I want to bury this and hold you instead so my thoughts need not be.
His stomach growled and cut through all of their thoughts.
“...to eat something and go to bed.”
Ogrim sighed and put the seal down to stand. “That’s something we can do right now. I’m not sure how much I can cook right now.”
“Me neither-” They were both extremely tired. The thought of grabbing a knife and preparing ingredients felt like torture.
“I can start a fire. Just warm something up?” Ogrim suggested.
“I did pack food- we were too busy with our thoughts to sit and eat…” Mato said, and his mind was made up.
“I’ll find my handled pan. You open the tiktik bits.”
“And I’ll start the fire.”
“Yes yes,” Mato said, rubbing his cracked armor to soothe himself as he stood too.
Ogrim was glad Mato had left kindling to use, likely for morning tea he never got to make before they left. He lit it swiftly before grabbing the meat.
As the fire grew, Mato appreciated the smell. More familiarity, more comfort. He grabbed the pan he wanted to use, placed it on the flame to warm up, and looked at Ogrim.
He opened the jar with both claws and ate some of the bits raw thinking Mato would not see.
He didn’t say a word.
Ogrim enjoyed his pilfered early treat, but Mato did swirl the pan to remind him he did need help putting it in.
He dumped it in, and Mato shook it around until the color turned. The quiet turned from fearful to sleepy with the smell of food.
Their emotions could settle. They could start sorting off the table with time. Long term. As much as it made them anxious or upset, if they tackled it all at once, they would crumble.
“Do you…want your cloak back?” Ogrim asked at a point where Mato shuddered from the cold of the hut mixing with the warmth of the fire.
“You can keep it for right now. Hand me a blanket?”
Ogrim listened, he put a blanket near Mato as he kept swirling the meat around. Mato took the pan off the heat and put it on the cool stone of the floor. It hissed, steam flowing around it.
The both of them scooted closer to each other and the pan as it swiftly cooled.
Mato pushed the blanket into his lap, letting it warm him slightly. He picked at the meat, taking chunks to eat. He encouraged Ogrim to do the same. They both just…ate out of the pan, and nobody was there to judge them.
Smacking once, Mato thought it was appropriate to bring up one more thing before they could be done with stressors.
“Ogrim, you shouldn’t go back to that nest as a home anymore. I don’t want you to live like that.” He ate another chunk, gauging Ogrim’s thoughts about that. Ogrim didn’t know what he could even say about it, so he was honest.
“...I…am unsure where else I can go.”
“Yeah…?”
“Everywhere else just feels…like…I can’t make it work. It’s dangerous, unwelcoming, or breaks my heart.” Ogrim stirred some of the bits and grabbed another. Thankfully the warmth of the pan didn't penetrate his claws.
“I can handle dangerous areas, my old homes were no oasis, but…I…don’t want to go far.”
…Was he saying he wanted to stay close to Mato?
“Well…You need to burrow, yes?” Ogrim nodded. “After we take our time to rest, I can show you some caves that I know to be sturdy and oft pest free. You can burrow here so you may have your enrichment.”
“...I can? You don’t mind-? I’m sorry, I need permission for this in cases like this-”
Mato took the last bit and shoved the pan aside to be washed later. He ate it and stated. “These aren’t my lands, Ogrim. They even exist outside of the king’s border. You answer to nobody.”
Mato moved the blanket, stood, and started kicking some pillows into a pile. He had a cot, but this sounded better.
“I…I don’t?” Ogrim asked, just watching him do it.
“Nope. How long would it take you to make it?”
“A good chunk of a season…one has to dig it out, size it, line it, it’s a process. Ugh, math.”
Mato waved his hand up. “Those are your only limits. Yourself. Time. And how much I can help.” Mato laid on the floor, arm still stinging but tiredness made him not care. Ogrim blinked away misty eyes at that.
“We’ll…add this to the pile." Ogrim grabbed Hegemol's seal and laid down too, making sure his horns won't poke Mato’s side. The cloak warmed him enough.
Mato still gave him a pillow, accidentally hitting his face with it. “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing.”
That would be said as many times as it took. The two of them got comfortable, thankful no candles were lit.
“...It’s alright if I sleep here until I can do that, yes? I’ll help around the home, I swear-”
“Shhh…I was going to offer.” Mato hushed him.
“You have a place here. Always. You are my friend and as your friend, I will keep you warm, fed, and safe. Don’t gotta earn your keep…” Mato spoke like his eyes were already closed and drifting.
Ogrim didn’t close his eyes yet, thinking to himself that he’d do it anyway. He could tell sleep was finding Mato very quickly, but Ogrim wanted to just…stare at the ceiling. Warm cloak…broken seal to his chest like a toy.
He wanted so much more to come of this journey. In a perfect world, he’d have been reunited with all of his friends and loved ones and lived happily ever after…but nothing was ever that kind.
No matter how much he gives the world, stuff will just be taken from him. He just hated that it was people.
People he loved. People he believed in.
Lost to the cruelty or the hubris of gods.
He leaves the journey with an even more broken heart, claws throbbing from acts of revenge, bittersweet tiny gestures to those who share a similar line of grief, memories he got lost in with his friend, and a tiny grave in a large graveyard not even marked.
And Mato.
There was little he could do now but wait. Wait for health. Wait for home. Wait for the friends he may be able to find.
But not a waiting like he did in the waterways, because as he waited, he'd also be processing and moving forward.
There are things he can’t know the answer to, and things which answers he’ll get wrong. Nothing will appear from the dirt and give them to him and he knows for some he’ll have to live with just not knowing.
He will live. For them all, for their honor, he will live.
He won’t run. He won’t hide. He will take his time, a deep breath, and stand. And he will live.
For as Mato said, these lands belong to no one. His new life is his to craft. Closure would not come to him by itself.
He’ll have to keep going. To find it true.
Showing and receiving love would help. He knows that much. For Hegemol and Ze’mer, he will show it. And he will allow himself to have it.
More friendship. More opportunities.
When everything is lost, everything is there to gain. Hope was not dead yet, but hope could not burn on exhaustion.
Ogrim closed his eyes and tried to drift off. To dream a new dream.
It would be hard, and never linear…but with those he can still hold by his side…he’ll heal.
And put it all to rest.