The procession of mourners was thought to have come to an end when another visitor arrived at the house. Fiepet had been there to greet them, but Delph ran out through the back when he heard the knock. He'd never liked guests, yet so many had come to pay their respects to his father. Had he still been alive, Delph felt sure he would have held him to account for all the trouble he'd put them through.

"Well?" asked Delph, sitting in his regular hiding spot by the lake when Fiepet came out to find him, "Have they left yet?"

"The man who just came? No... funny sort of person. And his clothes..."

"You can't blame a beggar for the rags they're forced to wear," said Delph, "Especially around here."

"Not rags," Fiepet explained, "Quite the opposite if anything. Golden jewelery in his ears, and such fine lace at his wrists that you might mistake him for a queen. What's more... he didn't seem to have heard the news about father. I fear it's hit him rather deeply... he asked to be alone with his things."

"I'm sorry, what? You left a stranger in our home with father's things?"

"You didn't see him Delph, he looked ready to crack! When I told him father's body had been burned it was all I could do to console him."

Delph got to his feet, thought about marching inside and throwing the man out of their house, but ultimately sat back down on the grass again.
 
"Better to leave him to it for a little while," Fiepet concurred, "We don't all want others to see us cry."

"He was crying?" asked Delph, "I know father was the sort to help a lot of people, but did he know anyone well enough that his death would bring them to tears? Aside from you and I, of course."

"I know all too well you've barely shed a tear since he passed," noted Fiepet, "Even though he clearly loved you the most... But, it's different for others. There are those for who parting is just too painful. Father will be greatly missed by many that knew him."

It wasn't that Delph didn't miss him. He was solemn but kind; never smiling, but always quick to lend a hand, even if his frail and aging body betrayed his attempts at generosity. Often he would sit at night, staring at the lake as the starlight danced upon its surface. Delph would stay quietly beside him, wondering upon the secret thoughts that occupied his father's mind. He talked so very little about himself, and there was always so much he wanted to ask.

"I miss him too," said Fiepet, reaching for his brother's hand, "Even if your tears won't fall... I know it's not because the sadness isn't there. I feel like you've always been sad, Delph."

Delph smiled and gave Fiepet's hand a gentle shake.

"Not sad, just frustrated. Had father let us leave and see something of the world, I might have found an ever greater sense of happiness! Some purpose at least... Didn't you want to see what lies beyond the mountains?"

"I've seen full well!" Fiepet declared, "It's not like we were without books to tell us all we need ever know! Father printed more than we could read in a lifetime."

"It's not the same though, is it?" asked Delph, "I want to see what's out there. And now..."

"Now father's gone..."

The air hung heavily between them.

"That's a thought for another day," said Delph, "There's still much to do, and so much work ahead of us. We've the last of father's printing jobs to finish up now that the mourning period has reached its close, and so many of his papers left to go through."

"Once our visitor has paid his respects, we should think about setting the press for Mrs Holbacher's latest nonsense."

"Not her again!" cried Delph, pulling out the blades of grass beneath his hand and appreciating the satisying tear they made, "Why did father like her silly romance novels so much anyway? He was happily single for much of his life!"

"Well, single, yes," answered Fiepet, "But who's to say if he was happy about it? With two boys to raise, there might not have been a woman willing to take us all on."

"It might not have been a woman that interested him at all," suggested Delph, "Didn't you say the man inside was terribly upset at father's passing?"

"Father was very old indeed," said Fiepet, "And the man just now looked closer to thirty, though it was hard to tell exactly... I was quite distracted by his finery. You want to come and take a look at him?"

"You know I don't like strangers..."

"All that, and you want to see the world!" cried Fiepet, "You do understand, the world is quite overrun with people?"

Delph threw his grass in Fiepet's direction.

"A fact I'm willing to overlook," he replied, "As long as you are with me to shoo them away."
 
"You're an unusual creature," admitted Fiepet, "You don't like strangers, and yet you can't bear to be alone. Perhaps it would do you well to find yourself a friend; take some pressure away from me to always keep you entertained. What if I wanted to take a wife? Or go my own way for a while?"

"Well then I really would cry!" pouted Delph, "You're all I have left dear brother, you're not allowed to leave me too."

Fiepet sighed and settled a hand on Delph's shoulder. He'd promised their father on his deathbed, to keep Delph safe from harm. That was how he knew, how much his brother had been loved.

"It isn't true you know," said Delph, as though reading Fiepet's mind, "That father loved me more. He loved us both the same. This house, this business, it belongs to us. If anything, he liked you more... you were always better at dealing with the customers, and didn't seem to mind when he was busy. You're the dependable one."

"Because I'm older," reasoned Fiepet, "I'm nearing twenty-seven!"

"No more talk of age," said Delph, "It makes me feel as though time is running out too quickly. You be the younger brother from now on, that way you'll always be around. Not to mention, do as I say."

"And when have you ever done as I'd asked you?" questioned Fiepet, "No, no, you're much too spoiled! It's time for me to correct things. Come along, you can introduce yourself to the visitor and offer him some comfort. It's only right you started challenging your poor opinion of others!"

Fiepet tried to pull him to his feet, but Delph was resistant.

"Delphin Strahl! You come with me and meet the guest this instant! I refuse to let you live a life of isolation any longer. I've been spoiling you far too much; as you said, this house and business belong to the both of us."

"Oh, you take them then!" cried Delph, planting himself on the grass and refusing to budge, "I honestly don't mind if it all goes to you! Just don't go throwing me out onto the street or anything... You can keep me like an aloof pet."

Fiepet rolled his eyes, and was quite surprised when Delph suddenly sprang to his feet.

"You've changed your mind?" he asked.

"No need to," Delph explained with a smile, "it seems the visitor is already leaving!"

The door had opened, and through it, a dark-haired gentleman glittering with gold, and dressed in shimmering fabrics came storming out; a hand wiping the incessant tears that fell from his eyes. He didn't notice the two men standing at a distance by the lake, he saw nothing beyond the veil of grief that masked his vision.

"He still looks so upset," said Fiepet, "Maybe I should go and talk to him?"

"What's there to say?" asked Delph, "Father will still be gone."

His brother's fierce look was enough to chide him. Delph was prepared to relent, when a large splash was heard from the far side of the lake.

"Where did he go?!" cried Fiepet, looking back towards the house where the water was deepest, and where the figure was altogether absent, "You don't suppose he'd do something stupid? Do you?!"

He waited for no answer, throwing aside his shoes and diving into the water to find him. He'd looked so broken when he'd heard the news, Fiepet should have known something was wrong. Delph could not sit idle. When his brother failed to surface, his only recourse was to follow after him. He swam towards Fiepet's flailing form and grabbed at his brother's ankle, but the force that pulled him was far too strong to contend with.

The water felt strange, like all at once it was thickening around them... a sage-like texture caressed Delph's face as he and his brother were dragged through the lake, desperately kicking until a sudden momentum pushed them into still and quiet water. Fiepet was fast, swimming to the surface with Delph not far behind him. They gulped in lungfuls of air, unaware of how the landscape around them had changed. Or that the blue sky of Grunterbad was suddenly darker.

On the other side of the river, a figure had emerged; the water on his clothes and the tears upon his face, both were cast aside with a wave of his hand and a muttered word, as he strode towards a pair of waiting horses. 

A flick of his wrist and the light in the river vanished; plunging those caught in his wake into darkness.

"Delph! Are you okay? I can't see you..." worried Fiepet.

"Not sure," Delph replied, "There seems to be a distinct possibility that we may be dead and that this is the afterlife."

Fiepet pinched his brother's cheek, and Delph yelped in pain.

"Not dead yet," reasoned Fiepet, "Let us get to shore and find our bearings."

There had to be a simple explanation for their strange encounter, and Fiepet was determined to find it; as soon as he equipped himself with a pair of shoes and a method in which they could dry themselves. The nearest river was the Meerbeck, that ran through the mountains out to the sea; they need only determine which point they'd arrived at, and home would be reached by morning. 

How they'd traveled so far remained a mystery, but one that could wait until they'd found the path that would lead them home.

Delph caught hold of a solid clump of dirt and grass, and pulled himself out of the water. His clothing clung to his skin, and the pebbles and muck beneath him were very much felt through the little protection his soaked-through shirt could give him.

"Was there an underwater passage in our lake, do you think?" he asked his brother, helping him onto the shore, "Was that why father always stared so?"

"I do not know," Fiepet replied, "And I do not care to speculate."

It was incredibly odd. They'd swum in the lake for years and never found a passageway that led them to the river; but it was certainly the most probable theory.

"And what of the man?" asked Delph, "Leaving without a word of thanks! Or an offer to help us home again. This, dear brother, this is why I have no time for strangers!"

"I do not think he saw us," said Fiepet, "You needn't think the worst of people. If we're to change out of these clothes, we may well need to rely on the kindness of a stranger this night."

"And that's another thing! Why is it night..?"

Fiepet huffed and pushed his brother to follow the river eastwards, it's not like he had the answers to those questions himself. It was probably a change in the weather, or the sun in alignment with the moon... there was always a rational explanation.

Having failed to remove his shoes before jumping into the water, Delph was squelching along the riverbank, wringing his clothes as best he could and splashing puddles of water onto the stony shoreline. Only Fiepet was facing agony with every step he took; the round stones shifting him off-balance, and digging into the soles of his feet.

"This won't do," Delph declared, "You'll hobble yourself at this rate." He pointed to the treeline; "I think we should go that way! The ground looks kinder."

"Into the forest? In the dark?"
 
"Those were only fairy stories father told us!" Delph decried, "You're not really afraid of the Happenstance, are you? They're not real, and have certainly never been seen in the wilds of Grunterbad. Even if they were to appear... I would surely protect you from their magic!"

As though to prove himself unafraid, Fiepet led the way into a thicket of trees.

This is Grunterbad, he told himself, unknowingly incorrect in his hypothesis, There's no such thing as the Happenstance...