Several days passed before Alvis Fairhands rejoined us. He came with his head bowed and with a pained look etched onto his lined weather-beaten face. I did not want him to feel thus humbled and ashamed of his actions. Spotting him moving slowly through the forest I walked out to him and wrapped arms around him in a powerful embrace. Taking him by the arm we walked together back to the caves’ opening and to the waiting crowd.
Gawaith, Gawain, and Ursala welcomed him with open arms. Ursala took the old Niscian’s hand and guided him into the caves and sat him down by a blazing fire. The old warrior was almost frozen from his journey. Layers of snow sat like a heavy coat of guilt across his shoulders and the look on the old man’s face as he watched the child flutter about him like a butterfly
