The Four

Liandra’s heart sank a bit as she looked down at Storm-Weaver. Almost 500 years this hammer had been her constant companion, her protector, and her friend. A heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and her heart cried out in pain. The weapon was one thing, but the even greater loss today was that of her companions. Four they were and had been the last five centuries. They had fought side by side against the tide of Wanderlocks, devious miscreants who lived in the shadows of the four realms. The last few generations of man had seen a great change, the Wanderlocks were held at bay by the four and what was left of the great army of men, elves, druids, and orcs until they came into the light no more. The world changed, the four lands divided into six, then eight, then more. Men grew strong and pushed the other races beyond the borders until they were not seen by man again. People became complacent, fact became myth and men forgot the other races entirely, convinced that they were the only ones. The time for the four was at an end. Sighing deeply, Liandra placed Storm-Weaver into the old abandoned boat. She turned to meet the eyes of the man whose hand had lain so heavily on her shoulder. Tears threatened but did not fall. They would see each other again, of this she was certain. As their eyes met, for what might prove to be the last time for years to come her heart settled into its regular rhythm. There would be another time she thought and looked back to the boat and the four weapons laying there. The world would need them again, they would be together, fight together, love together… she looked up at Einrich heart in her eyes. His face moved into a sad smile as he read her feelings there. He knew what moved her, knew her mind, body and soul as no other did. She had fought with him about this division, fought with everything she had, but in the end, he had prevailed. Turning her head away she let her body follow and soon she was striding out of the cave mouth and in the direction of her new home.