As the last of winter’s snow melted away, Alfar was where he had spent the everyday of the last few months. Standing in front of a simple wooden slab buried in the ground, he was practicing the same sword movements he had been taught what felt like an eternity ago. Unable to deal with the sadness of being alone, Alfar had made this trek to this desolate clearing each day regardless of weather, with the simple hope that maybe if he mastered these movements Deirdre would look at him with pride before she reincarnated.  

Few things had changed since the attack. Most of the village repaired their houses and continued their lives as normal. He had heard from his father that the village sold the dragon’s corpse for enough money to fix the town buy new what had been destroyed. He had also heard that Deirdre’s mother had left town with no intention of coming, but her husband had declined to join her. Besides his father, Alfar hadn’t talked to many people even his siblings or mother. The only people who visited him anymore were Lachlann, Thomas, and Ciaran. Each had a separate day they visited him each week as well as one where they all came at once.  

The sun was beginning to shine through the tree trunks as Alfar restarted his sequence. The sound of twigs snapping alerted him to his father’s presence, but instead of turning to him Alfar continued with his practice.  

“Son, it’s not easy to say this, “ Mikhael Woodheart began with a sigh,” But your mother and I have been talking and we think it’s time for you to leave.”  

“What do you mean?” Alfar asked temporarily stopping. 

“We know that it was your plan to leave back after... well you know. It’s also obvious that this town is no longer a place for you to be happy. So, the town agreed that since you killed the beast, we would give you a portion of the money we got. This should be enough to fund your travels for a while and we’ve already packed all your things and loaded a wagon for you.”  

The wagon was as Alfar expected just a simple horse pulled wagon filled with a small amount of hay. As he walked forward, his parents and siblings quickly hugged him and wished him well. A small crowd had gathered to offer their goodbyes, including Mr. Etsan. Alfar tried his best to return their goodwill as he climbed into the driver's seat of the wagon. Before he could set the horse in motion Lachlann climbed up next to him.  

“You’re coming?” Alfar asked. 

“Of course,” Lachlann began. 

“Honestly, it took you long enough,” Thomas interrupted. Looking behind him he could now see both Thomas and Ciaran leaning against the sides of the wagon.  

“Why would Elderbrooks most eligible bachelors choose to leave?” Alfar joked.  

“There’s no need for a woodsman when everyone has dragon money,” Ciaran complained tapping his hands on two axes on his belt, “Besides I spent most of my childhood traveling and you could use my wisdom.” 

“I was hoping to spend a few days studying the arcane maybe even visit the academy in the capital,” Lachlann explained holding elder Topapa’s staff tight.  

“Honestly, I hate this place and it’s whole dull atmosphere,” Thomas stated fiddling with a simple wooden spear,” if all of you left me alone, I’d die of boredom. You’re not going to kick us off though right?” 

“If I had expected you to already be in the wagon, I would have asked you to come,” Alfar answered.  

“How’d you know we were in the wagon?” Ciaran questioned.  

“Simple after visiting me every week for a season and a half none of you were present in the goodbye crowd.”