Time had not been kind to the members of the Tantalum. Lives had come and gone and worn them thin. Days became mere seconds on the long march to a death denied. Only when they pledged to do something with each grain of sand pouring through the hourglass had the weeks felt golden, a halcyon realisation that cracked apart the thaw entombing Berevar. For the first time in centuries the Tap, the untethered, uncorrupted Tap ebbed and flowed back into the world.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Duffy smiled from ear to ear, watching the sun crest over the horizon and bring the dawn of a new day.

“I’m too cold to feel anything.” Leopold grit his teeth.

“Like your heart?” The bard chuckled.

“Always the comedian. Why did you want to come back here anyway?”

The bleak tundra turned into a crystalline meadow, flecks of fire cascading over the arid and jagged peaks and troughs. As the sun appeared in full, the dawn chorus pierced the ghostly silence and cast the duo in their proper light.

“It’s been a few days. I wanted to see if anything had happened.” Duffy narrowed his gaze, looking for signs of change, sign of triumph out in the wastelands.

“Well, if by change you mean the exact same thing our little adventure was a roaring success.”

“You’re terrible at passive aggressive.”

“Ruby rubs off on me.”

“She’s done more than that. She’s turned you against yourself. Your dream has come true and your content drinking bourbon in study thousands of miles away.”

“Dying makes me maudlin’.” Leopold sighed.

“Since when did dying make you anything less than more determined?” Duffy spread his arms at Berevar. “The Tap is free. The Old Gods, what is left of them are seeping into every inch of rock and every handful of snow. Why aren’t you bloody smiling?”

Leopold considered his reasons but soon found them wanting. He had expected something more than despondency. Thousands of years of being alone, even by his own hand had made him desire a family so much he had never considered what it would be like to have that. Though the Tantalum had welcomed him, they were not his flesh and blood. He turned to his brother.

“You never preach unless there’s a point. You’ve brought me here because you know something.”

Duffy smiled sheepishly and dropped his hands to his sides.

“Okay, okay…but don’t think I’m through with you yet.” He pointed to the mountains to the north. “What do you see?”

The long crest of peaks formed the first barrier between the tundra and the inner heartland of Berevar. There, the mountain giants held their court, and the most pious and shamanistic tribes of orcs hid away from their more warring cousins. In his youth, Leopold had spent much of his time as Raven watching the vision quests of the elders and seeing the power of belief first hand. They had stymied the invasions south and kept Berevar relatively civilised. When the Thayne had sent the Old Gods deep into the bowels of the land, that hope had gone, and war replaced it.