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When Halsin wakes from his reverie, he knows today is the day. He pushes himself from his bed with a groan, knees protesting the movement with loud cracks.
He was so old now.
He pushes his way through the door and steps out onto the streets of Reithwin, the sun catching his eyes.
When he wild shapes, it’s with a fizzle of gold rather than the explosion it once was.
His bear has long grown old, the light brown of his snout giving way to grey then finally white, fur rumpled, and silver tipped. His joints ache and he is slow to move but he is comfortable despite the setbacks.
Since his unofficial retirement, Halsin had spent most of his time as the bear, mostly surfacing if his input was needed. It rarely was and Halsin is grateful in a way for there was more time to just be and perhaps tell the children of the town stories.
He spends his days sunning himself in the grass now, long gone are the days of giving the children of Reithwin rides.
But today is the day Halsin must leave. He knows it’s happening, can feel the whispers of death beckon him and he will go.
Later.
For now, he wishes to be with his people.
But soon he will do as his bear wishes and venture out into the welcoming embrace of the trees.
He lumbers through the streets of Reithwin, passes beside the legs of the generations he helped raise. Whose parents’ parents he delivered and taught and guided.
From a city of orphans, those abandoned through the war with The Absolute and those seeking a new start, to a city full of love and family. Halsin nothing if not proud of what they had accomplished.
He watches as a swarm of laughing children run past him with shouts of hello and he knows that the town with continue to flourish.
The day passes slow and before long, his bear urges him towards the woods as is its nature. Reithwin has been his home for centuries, but the wilderness is where he belonged. Where he wants to be to enjoy all of Silvanus’ gifts for a final time, while the sounds of the generations he has raised a guided alight the air around him.
Halsin lumbers through the woods on tired paws, the sun shines through the blanket of leaves and catches on the glades of grass. Through clearings in the leaves, he can see the blue sky, birds flying.
Today is no different to all the others and yet Halsin believes the world has never looked more perfect.
He’s grateful, in a way, that there were no clouds, no heavy downpour that he would often read about in those tragic romance novels Astarion would sometimes leave after his visits.
Halsin doesn’t wish for the people of Reithwin to go through the day with the melancholy that often accompanies such stormy weather. He’d prefer his passing be remembered with the warmth of the sun, the fresh breeze and bird song.
Silvanus has truly gifted him a beautiful day for his old and weary eyes to witness for the last time.
Eventually, his legs begin to tire. The spot allows for a clear view of a glimmering lake through the trees. The way the sun catches across the surface feels almost dreamlike in its movement.
Halsin lowers his tired body to the ground, his eyes drift closed in a slow relaxed blink, snout in the air.
It will happen soon.
He can feel the way his heart is slowing, his brain is foggy, he can feel it in the way his limbs relax into the ground almost as if they are inviting it to accept his tired body in offering.
Small hands touch the sides of his snout, and he lazily blinks his eyes open again.
Thaniel… He greets, the bear merely burrs but the boy understands him, nonetheless.
“Hello again old friend.” Thaniel warmly greets, guiding his head down as he moves to kneel in front of him. He notices that Oliver stands off to the side, his hands fisted in the hem of his shirt, Halsin can see the tears gleaming in the boys’ mismatched eyes.
He’s glad that the boys chose to stay separated, that they will forever have one another to play with and Silvanus’ next chosen will share in the balance of their nature.
“You have done much for this land Halsin.”
There is yet more to do. The bear rumbles and Thaniel smiles, hushing him, his small thumbs rubbing circles into his fur.
“You have done enough friend. Now it is time for you to rest.”
It was slow but it was peaceful, dying felt like being tucked into bed as a child, the noise of the town sounded like his mother’s whispered lullabies as the wind caressed him in place of his mother’s gentle touch.
Saying goodbye to the land that had presented him so many gifts was easier than he had thought it would be, less of a goodbye and more of a thank you as he drifted from one plane to another.
“Knock knock darling.” Astarion calls out as he saunters through the door.
The house is dark, long has the druid’s scent dissipated from the environment.
“Halsin?” He calls again drawing his bottom lip in to worry with his teeth, the house was cold and lacked the fullness that Halsin’s belongings and presence provided.
Since those wagons full of orphans, Halsin’s wandering nature had died down. He never really left the town unless he had to run errands, visit Astarion in the Underdark or if his wilder nature called in the early spring. But even that had all but diminished as Halsin had gotten older.
“Where have you gotten to, bear?” Astarion sighs, stepping back out of the house and onto the cobble streets.
He wonders for a while, and he’d be a fool if he didn’t notice the numerous looks that were shot it way. Full of emotion that Astarion couldn’t place as when he made eye contact with them, they were quick to avert their gaze down to the ground.
The city town moves on as normal in any other case, but it feels empty, cold. Like it’s missing something very important that Astarion can’t name.
Astarion frowns when there’s yet no sign of Halsin, he grabs a passing tielfing by the bicep causing the man to flinch momentarily.
“Where has the bear disappeared to? Is he not around?”
The tiefling’s face falls, almost sympathetic as he raises a hand to cover Astarion’s.
“Have you not heard? I was sure someone would have sent message…”
“Heard what?” He didn’t have time for this, he had something important to discuss with the man.
“Oh…”
The tiefling shifts, eyes darting down before he meets Astarion’s again.
“Word of the druid’s passing was meant to be sent out to you… I am sorry.”
“The druid’s… No. When?” It was a long time coming, it had been a constant thought that plagued the back of Astarion’s mind; he had never entertained the thought. But now that it had happened, his heart is in his throat, a squirming uncomfortable feeling builds in his stomach.
“A tenday ago. I am sorry sir.”
Astarion swallows the lump of emotions, brushing non-existent dust from the front of his doublet.
“Well, that is a shame. He would have enjoyed the news I have.” Astarion plasters on a smile and turns in an over-exaggerated twirl. “Oh well.”
The tielfing watches as the man turns, it was obvious what he was doing. He wasn’t an idiot, had seen the vampire visit numerous times, had been told the stories of the white-haired elf and their druid.
“He is buried in the woods, opposite the lake… If you wish to visit.”
Astarion ducks his head with a scoff. “Why would I do that? He’s not going to hear me.”
The tielfing sympathetically inclines his head in answer, “Well, now you know.”
“Yes, thank you.” Astarion dismisses the tiefling with a wave of his hand before he heads off, suspiciously in the direction to the woods.
It wasn’t hard for Astarion to find the grave, a mound of smooth stones encompasses the grave’s mound, a silver bear pendant hangs on the tree at the head of the grave.
Astarion picks up the pendant, rubbing the emeralds embedded in the metal. He takes the necklace without a thought and puts it over his head, the bear rests sun warmed against his chest.
“I am keeping this by the way; hope you don’t mind.” Astarion laughs, gesturing weakly to the pendant that sits against his chest.
“Hello bear.” He greets, it’s awkward talking to a pile of rocks with no expectation of a reply, but he finds he can’t stop the flow of words.
“I found a cure… for me. I can be a plain old elf again.” Astarion sighs, “You were right, not that you can gloat any longer seeing as you’re you know…” He gestures to the ground.
“Gods, look at me talking to a damn pile of rocks.”
He casts his eyes to the glimmering lake, the greener than green surroundings, the colourful wildflowers.
“At least you picked a nice place to die, dear. Far better than an alleyway, believe me.” Astarion laughs again, it’s wet with emotion, and he raises his hand to thumb away a tear.
“Seeing as I am soon to be mortal, I will not say goodbye.” Astarion touches his palm against the tree, it’s ridiculous but he can almost feel how another hand touches his, fingers bent and grazing against his knuckles.
“So, maybe ‘until next time’ will do.”
Astarion takes a deep breath, steadying himself as he takes a step away from the grave.
“Kiss kiss darling, we shall meet in the next life perhaps.”