Inn overlooking the Northgate Gallows
5 minutes before Garbon’s death
Lumotu was excited.
His friends had just uncovered the Swan plot to hang an innocent woman in the streets for the murder of countless (vile) men. The execution was scheduled for just two hours from when they found out. Plenty of time to devise and execute an airtight rescue.
And Lumotu knew their plan was going to work.
He’d seen Talith blast down walls much thicker than this Inn’s on a bad day. Once he got the signal, one good blast through the second floor window would give “the witch” her grand exit, right in front of the crowded gallows.
Garbon’s disguise looked perfectly hideous. One look at him and no one would be able to deny that was the real witch!
The whole square would stare aghast and demand the release of the wrongfully accused prisoner. If they hung her in the face of this new evidence, the Swan would risk putting their true heartless nature on full display.
They’d have to release the girl and pursue Garbon or risk creating more interlopers. More like the children of Aelorean’s Crossing, who had proven an eternal thorn in their sides.
They’d definitely give chase to Garbon, but he’d be jumping from roof to roof. There was no way they could catch him on foot.
Especially with some of this tree sap Lumotu was smearing on his hands and boots. It didn’t take much, just a glowing thumbprint or two on each of his heels and palms. Garbon wasn’t sure where Lumotu got the stuff, but it had always helped him climb the tallest trees back in Aelorean’s Crossing.
The cross-legged Lumotu smiled up at Garbon as he set the sapped boot down on the inn’s floor in front of him. “There, that should help you keep your footing on those rooftops! Now go give those Swans the slip!”
Lumotu jumped in to hug Garbon, beaming a smile as his head rested on the half-elf’s shoulder. The warmth of his childhood friend’s arms around his back only made him squeeze harder. But it was now or never. Time to go.
As he left the inn, Lumotu could still feel the connection he had with Garbon. The sap on his hands and feet. The embrace still fresh on his cloaked back.
The signal went out, and everyone played their parts perfectly.
Except the Swans.
Lumotu wasn’t anywhere near the Wolf and Garbon when they met, but he felt what happened there. He felt the sap mix with blood. He felt Garbon slip away. Tears streamed down his face as he fled the square.
The pair of rings on his necklace began to pulse as he recalled what his father had taught him. He was the boy who believed. Stopping in an alley to sit and bury his head into in knees, he sniffed and focused on the warm pulsing against his chest.
He believed his parents would be okay too, but that was the other half of the lesson. Life and death are two sides of the same coin. Everyone has their own path, and it leads them through both Life and Death.
But that didn’t make it any less sad. As the tiny halfling sobbed for his lost friend, the warmth from the rings passed through to the cloak on his back. It felt just like Garbon’s embrace despite the cold stone he was leaning against.
Garbon would always be with him. As long as he believed.
Lumotu’s dirty tablecloth cloak now has two filigreed arms emblazoned around the back in the shape of Garbon’s hug. The dense designs show the memories he shared with Garbon; climbing trees, snorkeling in the lake, looking for their lost pets, battling Swans, and in the center, Garbon gyrating his hips on the roof of the inn as the perfect Witch distraction.
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