Two weeks later...
Not many images had brought tears to his pale green eyes, but when looking upon this one, there was no way to hold them back. He stood alone in a quiet grove, no too far off the main road to Scara Brae, the sun beating down upon his head. A light breeze blew through the trees and rustled the leaves that had found their way to the ground. In the middle of that grove stood a statue, standing tall and proud: a statue of his father.
The wood elf had his hands at his hips, one leg bent as it rested on a stone. A sword was sheathed on his weapons belt and a bow laid peacefully on his shoulder. The detail was extraordinary, made by the finest stoneworker of Scara Brae. Every strand of hair, whether braided or adorned with a stray feather, looked real, as if Anenfel expected it to return to its auburn color and his father jump down from the pedestal he stood upon.
A smile covered the elf's face, a smile that, Anenfel knew all to well, could make a woman's knees buckle and swoon. The craftsman even somehow managed to capture his demeanor with that smile, the suggestive look he would give everyone he knew; one eyebrow raised slightly above the other. The small notches in his leather armor, the scar he had on the underside of his left forearm, it was all there. A fitting tribute, the wayfarer thought.
Slowly his eyes found the pedestal itself and the words engraved upon the plaque that had been placed in the center.
"Shadows may fall and the threat of death may linger, but only one's strength and courage can cast the light upon your heart."
-Renthilar Saendithas, protector and friend.
Anenfel nearly cried all the more when he read the last line on the plaque, "He will be missed.", for he knew it to be true.
* * * * *
Anenfel couldn't have been more amazed by the resilience the peoples of Scara Brae held even if he tried. Two weeks had passed and almost all the damage the combined forces of the goblin and spider forces had reaked upon the city was nearly repaired.
The half-elf went out of his way to visit the new and improved, Sea's Salt, which had quickly become one of the best establishments in the city. When speaking with the innkeeper, he noted on many occasions how he had meant to repair the stairs and add on a few rooms, but just never had the time or the money. But with the spider-god crushing the tavern under foot, the Queen had offered to pay for its rebuilding, to which, of course, the innkeeper kindly accepted.
After having a quick drink, Anenfel found himself on the streets once again. The people that passed him by giving him a quick nod or even a pat on the back. Although his contribution to the battle had been minimal, it seemed his name had become rather well-known. He passed by a local clinic, a clinic that he had visited to be rid of the venom that a spider's bite had graced him with.
The only reason he stood there to this day was because of Hadley. If it were not for his quick thinking and magical potion, he'd be dead. Luckily, after the battle, Anenfel was able to return the favor by getting him down from the building he had been flung into and rushed to the very same clinic. He recovered well enough, though now he walked with a slight limp.
The wayfarer made his way to the Scarabrian Guard's headquarters and found Hadley standing leisurely by the entrance. The warrior mage smiled as he saw Anenfel approach.
"You still here," he said, "I thought you would have left with the other heroes."
Anenfel laughed, he was no hero. "They have their path, and I have mine." For in truth, if he had wished it, he could have left with the pair. But he knew his place now, he knew where he belonged.
"Oh?" Hadley replied joking, "And where exactly does that path lead? To the next barmaid?" Anenfel smiled as he thought of the more intimate attention he had been getting.
"No," he said lightly. He walked up and into the entrance of the building, just past the sandy-haired guard and replied, "I'm here to put in my application."
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