An End

Some characters you already know. 

For a more immersive experience I suggest listening to "Jenny of Oldstones" by Florence, "One More Light" by Linkin Park, "Goner" by tøp or "Spanish Sahara" by Foals.

cns mention of death and horrific stuff, loss of friends and lovers, mention of suicide, goodbyes

"But how do you do it? How do you.." the soft voice broke. For a moment, nothing else was to be heard but the sound of crickets and the gentle splashing of the nearby river. It was a warm midsummer night, and every one of the scarred souls that had met here tonight could hardly shake the similarities to the night of the disaster. They had set up camp a few miles from the next town, and even the city lights in the distance added to the feeling of bittersweet nostalgia.

"I don't know" boomed another voice in response. "I guess... I guess I have been through worse, you know? And somehow.. somehow I always get back up. There are people in this world who are still worth fighting for, I think. They deserve that I help them. I think that is how I do it." a low hum, almost a growl, followed before the voice repeated itself, this time with a more thoughtful undertone. "I think that is how I do it..." 

Now yet another voice joined the conversation. In brutal contrast to the one before, this one sounded like a blade engulfed in honey, sweet and melodious but also sharp and with an indefinable accent. "Fuck, I have no idea. To be completely honest, I have no fucking idea. I simply don't let it touch me. I think if I did, I couldn't move on. I'd be laying face down in that damn river before dawn. But whatever, right? Gotta get through somehow." 

Something big shifted in the dark, cloth and fur was rubbed up against each other, a gentle purr, then silence for a while. Then the first voice spoke again, more firmly this time. "Anyway. That's not why I brought you here.. not exactly, anyway. You got a torch? Actually wait, I'll grab one myself.." a backpack was opened, a few objects retrieved, and after a brief moment flickering light filled the secluded glade. 

The three figures standing there looked around. Beneath thick layers of moss and other vegetation, deteriorated piles of stone indicated a building had once stood here, perhaps centuries or millenia ago.

The flame also illuminated the three people standing there: With the torch in his hand and clad in his signature leather armor, the guide of the group was a wood elf who went by the name of Lykta. His dark eyes were reddened, but in that light his companions could not make out if it was because he had cried or not slept enough. He was joined by a colossus of a Leonin named Xaro, who normally enthusiastically introduced himself as "Xaro Farsong!", but on the open forest clearing even he, with a huge curved sword on his back, looked a little lost. Right next to him stood a small catfolk with a bronze pelt, their golden eyes seemingly almost outshining the torch in the elf's hand. Their name, Amber Steelclaw, was a chosen name, but nobody who knew them doubted its justification.

They hadn't seen each other in over five years and under different circumstances they would be a lot happier about this reunion, but Lykta had quickly destroyed that hope. He was glad to see them, but mainly so he wasn't forced to do the following alone.

 

"I brought you here because this" he waved around with his torch and made a vague gesture, "was once one of the first, if not the first temple of Kelemvor on this continent. You know, judge of the dead and all that. And I figured if I am to release their souls anywhere.. it should be here. I can't keep them with me any longer. I can feel them slip from my grasp a little more every month, and by now I have written down all of their memoirs. It's time." he sighed and let his shoulders slump. "I just.. I wish it wouldn't have to be like this.." 

A large, white paw sunk down on his shoulder and softly stroked it. Xaro rumbled "Then let us do it. We should not wait any longer. Let us do it right. For them."

"Yeah.. I suppose you're right." Lykta took a deep breath and reached up to his neck. His nimble fingers took a second fidgeting there, and then he untied the thin leather band he had worn around his neck ever since that night and held it out in front of him. 

Strung up on it were seventeen pearls of different materials. Every single one looked different and somehow alive, as though something was moving inside of them. Some seemed to be glowing from the inside, and all of them were incredibly beautiful. 

Lykta hesitated for a split second, then, as careful as one would touch a newborn, placed the necklace on the moss-covered ground. 

Slowly, he turned around and walked back to the others. He looked like every step took a toll on him that could not be put into words, but eventually he reached the others. Amber nodded. "Do it. For them."

Barely noticeable, the Rogue nodded then turned around. He cleared his throat. "Be.." but the words stuck in his throat. A shiver shot through his body. These were his friends, his mentors, his companions and so much more.  He couldn't just.. there was no was he could... 

"Hey. It's okay. No need to cry. This is the best for everyone. I know it's hard, but you're the only one who can do this." Xaro spoke, and only now Lykta realized he was crying. He sat on his knees and the tears streamed over his face, running down his neck and leaving an uncomfortable chill on his skin. He was shaking badly now, wrapping his arms around himself to just make it stop. 

What even was he without them? He had never asked for this power, it was a damn curse, but it had also allowed him to stay with his friends for a little longer after they had been ripped away from him so violently. Without them he was just a lost boy without a place in the world, especially after Rome and Nefarius had left him too. The cold stone pressed against his forehead, and he painfully realised how lonely he was in this forest, surrounded by nothing but ruins. 

"It's okay. I know how you feel." Amber's voice cut through his spiralling thoughts like a flame through fresh snow, they had always had that gift. "You'll have a place with us. We won't abandon you, ever. I give you my word. As long as you need us, we won't leave you." Xaro just hummed in agreement. Suddenly, Lykta felt both their hands on his shoulders. Xaro's heavy paw rested on his left shoulder and Amber's petite hand on his right one, and even though they were so different, both equally filled him with strength and resolve for what he had to do. Gathering his will, he first got on hands and knees and then slowly stood up. Their hands never left him, and now he finally felt like he had it in him. Lykta inhaled.

Be free

It was nothing but a whisper, but the souls bound in the necklace had heard him. At once, all the pearls shattered. From them rose little comets of light in every color there was. They roamed free and flooded the ruined temple with light, shining bright as day in the middle of the night. It was a sight to behold. Within just a few seconds each one shot around the glade multiple times, outracing each other in a wild and ecstatic dance before gathering in the middle, culminating their dance in tornado of colorful lights... and then they were gone, the forest was as dark as before and Lykta's heart heavier than ever. 

He knew that this had been the end of an era, or the end of its afterglow at least, the legacy of Gato-Saka, that had stood proud for over a thousand years now ended after clinging on to the world for a few years after its destruction. He had done his best to preserve it, dedicated his entire life to that task, and it had all been for nothing.

But then his friends hugged him from behind, and as awkward as that weird, dissimilar group hug was, the world felt a little warmer. Maybe one day, he would have a purpose again. Maybe one day. And until then, Xaro and Amber would be there. They had promised. That was all he could hold on to for now, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't. They had promised.

Note: After finishing this, please do me a favor and listen to "The Call" by Regina Spektor. That puts Lykta's feelings in words better than I ever could.