One Generation to the Next

Tyr of Blackwood
Blackwood,
Spring, Y763ONA

The King's blessing! My work approved...this has been my dream for the past year... Tyr was practically walking on air as he tried to make his way back to his hollow. I can't wait to tell Tsagaulsa...She would love to hear about this. He tossed his head, horn free, it bounced lightly sending his curled mane flying. This was it, he would finally be able to contribute to the herd without having to produce a fawn of his own and this would be his legacy. He stopped, "I'll have to find others who would be willing to teach, I only know Necromancy, and I'm sure that wouldn't be the only strain of magic to show up in the fawns of the past few years who would be willing to learn..." He thought about it for a moment, "I'll have to find some others to help me with this trial. After all, this is for the good of the herd as a whole. King Skoll has a passion for educating the young of the herd for the strength of the whole...I need to go talk to mother..." And with that he bounded off.

Stepping into the dark clearing where he had slept as a child, now empty and void. Two large stones marked the ground here, a faded paint marked them as Nyx and Jormungandr. Tyr sighed, the air was still kind of cold, and his breath appeared in the atmosphere before him. With sad eyes, he breathed in deeply, feeling the faint and lingering memories of the place where he and his family had shared so much joy and misery. After a curse of terminal illness on the two, his parents had passed, and he had had to bury them alone. None of his brothers had made it this long, none of the respectable ones anyway. Alarik was still around, but he had skulked off to the far reaches of the herd and probably did not even know of their parents passing. Sensing the strength of her spirit, he called out to his mother, summoning her spirit back.

"Hello, Tyr. You look so handsome now, son," Nyx spoke in a faded, echoing voice. Tyr had to hold back tears. He hadn't seen her in a few seasons.

"Hi, mom, I've got exciting news to tell you. King Skoll gave me permission to start a school for the fawn so the herd. We're going to teach magic, herb lore, and have safe sparring environments. Strengthening the herd through education, just as I know you valued. Just as the king values," he lowered his head a little more, to hide his eyes from his mother's glazed and misty gaze.

"Oh, Tyr," she whispered, extending her nose to him, her cold reach chilling his skin, "Your father and I would be so proud of you. You know that."

"I know. I know that you both would be supporting me until the day you..." At this point he began to break down. He knew that she could never stay for long, it took too much to keep her here, and he did not want to disrespect her body by binding her to an item. It was undignified for a doe of her caliber and grace.

"I have to go now, Tyr. Please know that I love you, and I hope that someday we can talk again," her voice was melancholy with the weight of having to leave her only respected son to the wiles of the world alone. "I love you." And with that, she faded, smiling.

Tyr stood after a very long time. His knees covered in the acidic dirt that was littered with pine needles and a few sparse littered leaves. With a sigh, he left the space of dead air to return to a realm of living things.