Epilogue
YORICK PROUDHOLLOW
I t took a long time to rebuild the Adventurers Guild, but Morgana, Calamity, Gorlag and Yorick were there for every moment of it.
In the weeks following the destruction of the Supremacy Sphere, a lot had happened for Yorick. He and his friends had been honoured by the Queen for their service to the realm, and for weeks they had been the guests of honour at feasts and parties all over the Capital and beyond. But they’d still been grieving their friend, too, and though a statue of Thrormir had been erected in his hometown, it felt like the rest of the people they encountered were keen to brush him under the rug as collateral damage and focus on the near-miss that had been prevented.
So instead of sticking around and pretending they were proud of what they’d done, they went out on missions instead. They’d formed a nice little group; the four remaining from their original party; Ser Prize, who (thankfully) mostly went by Liam these days; and a new druid recruit named Eden. She was younger than the rest of them, and her magic was a bit unpredictable, but she proved herself useful.
* * *
It was in the second month after the battle that Yorick received the letter at the guild house from his mother. Which was strange, since his mother had died several years prior. He opened it as he lay in his bunk, the lute he’d been playing discarded at his side.
Dearest Yorick, we need your help at home. Your father’s unwell, and we need money for a cleric. Please bring some with you when you come. Love, Mum.
Yorick squinted down at the crooked writing – was he imagining it, or did it look an awful lot like his mother’s? – and frowned.
“Check this out,” he said, handing the letter down to Gorlag, who was on the bunk below him.
“That’s not great,” they said after a moment. A long-ish moment; Gorlag wasn’t very good with reading. “You want me to go with you?”
Yorick poked his head over the edge of his bunk and met Gorlag’s eye.
“My mum’s been dead for years.”
Gorlag frowned and turned the letter over, examining it. When they did, their face went slack.
“What is it?” Yorick asked, grasping for the letter back. But Gorlag didn’t hand it over, just turned it back to show Yorick what they’d found. When he saw it, his own mouth fell open in surprise. How he hadn’t noticed it the first time was beyond him. But the wax seal on the letter jumped out at him plain as day now.
Because the shape pressed into the wax seal was a twelve-pointed star.