An evening of memory.

[Guest]

"When I was young."

So spoke Skullion, Skull for short.

The others at the table listened as he began to speak. Dinner long finished, the fire ebbing low in the fireplace, sending out a glow against the coming evening.

Skullion began again.

"When I was young, I saw a running woman." Skull got out of his chair and walked to the south door that overlooked the fields and forests near Skara Brae.

"To this day I cannot remember her face or look, only that I started to think of time then, and memory, our leftovers of times past."

"Her urgency to get somewhere on time to do something unknown to me, started me thinking."

He paused and looked out at the darkening sky.

"Her urgency then is as long forgotten as her need for it. That was many lives ago."

"My decision then to follow time, led me a merry chase up hill and down dale, through much chaos and many patterns."

"The major trick being to avoid the melancholia of the past and the fear of the future."

The last words with a wry grin as he turned back to his companions. He glanced at these five that knew him.

"Change comes. Not at its usual pace, but at a greater scale than tis normal."

"I can feel the changes coming, they blow through my hair like the wind, they are far off, but eventually to be here."

Putting his hands on the back of the chair he had eaten at, Skullion leaned forward.

"The changes will affect us little in most regard, the only thing I cannot fathom is the sense of deadening, of neutrality, that comes to me."

"Its like looking into dead eyes.", he nodded and even smiled at his castle steward's stifled cough.

"Yes, much like my own."

He continued.

"Many times I have said goodbye to people, places and times. Only to have others to welcome. So will this be."

Skullion paused and then smiled.

"As to tonight, we must find that old port and get the kitchen to send up some of those delightful local cheeses. Tomorrow I leave again, but tonight, tonight we are here and that is all that matters."

 

[Guest]

Skullion left.

He heard the heavy castle doors shut behind him as he walked down the steps.

He was leaving his home of many years.

He tightened his greatcoat and pulled on his gloves against the cold winter air coming in from the sea.

There was a hill near his castle that he headed towards.

He would not turn back and he would not return.

Eventually he reached the hill, the air cold in his lungs and breathed out in great steamy breaths as he began the climb.

Reaching the top he could see far over the treetops of the woodlands of Skara, turning in a circle he even saw far-off the battlements of his former home. Where those old and dear to him were doing what needed doing for the time ahead.

Tilting back his head as the rain came he flung wide his arms and began the spell.

The song came deep and true from him, and the wind began to stir in response, Skullion's long hair lifting and whipping about as the storm was called.

Power of an old age was being tapped and Skullion began the weave. To the raw strength awakening he added sorrow and resolution. It would be many hours before the song reached its destination and as the storm picked up Skullion noticed it less as he left this place. Finally the words of the spell reached that clear place of light and hope undying. Then Skullion waited, holding the note.

From a distance it seemed Skullion lifted from the ground, spinning and rising, until he winked out of sight.

Floating in a cloudy sky, arms still outstretched in a display of powerful acceptance, Skullion sang, waiting.

The twirling twisting of cloud mist slowly formed into a fast-coiling shape floating before him.

The dragon had come.

Skullion stared at the dragon. Light cold blue it gleamed as it endlessly coiled about itself and stared back at him with the most human glint of wit and wisdom in its eyes, and that always underlying spark of humour.

"I go", explained Skullion.

"You have changed, but that is not new.", replied his dragon. Soaring and diving low and then rising to float before Skullion the great head of the dragon humourfully asked, "If you leave me, mathmagician, can I come too?".

"I leave Sosaria, I do not think there is any place I could go that you could not.", answered the bard.

"True indeed, wherever thou goest, I will greet thee, but from me now, know that it is with a loving sadness I say good bye to you." A darker glint coloured the dragon's great eyes.

"Goodbye friend". And all that remained of the dragon was moving mist.

Tasting the sorrow of his heart, Skullion withdrew into himself all the songs and tales, memories and magic of the past, the vivid smiles, the loud laughs, the ringing clash of battles won or lost, all came back to him fully. All his follies, fumbles and friends, all his victories, triumphs and glories. All came home.

So much there was.

And then finally like an old man closing a much read and loved book, Skullion said goodbye to Sosaria.

Although there were none there to hear.