It took Harlan several days to reach his destination. He walked through a track in the wilderness and stopped at a fork in the road. He looked down one of the paths, his eyes unfocused. "I bet you stood there, my friend. You thought about it and couldn't take the step." He straightened his shoulder and took a deep breath, "Well, I'll do that for you then." His boots firmly pounded the dirt as he resumed his journey.
The town appeared in the distance. The temple at the top of the hill was illuminated by sun rays piercing the clouds. "The place grew even more," muttered the warrior as he walked down the hill toward the city gates. He entered without challenge and walked straight toward the central square. A ruffle of white clothes in his peripheral vision. A delighted scream, "Harlan!" Soft arms wrapping around his neck.
A young dark-haired woman was beaming at him. "Little Gwen?" He asked after a short pause. A fist slammed into his shoulder, half playful, half annoyed. "You were gone a long time. You told me you saw it. You had a vision that you would come back." Harlan gave her an apologetic smile, "And here I am, those things always lacked precision." Gwen tilted her head, "Why are you here, Harlan?" The warrior answered, "I met Gareth. I'm going to see his mother." The young healer beamed, "That's great news." Then she sombered, "How was he?" The one-armed man pondered for a while, "He was well, all things considered. He is well accompanied too."
Gwen froze, her eyes wide, lips partly open. She whispered, "Did you see her? Did you see Jessica?" Harlan frowned slightly, "No, I don't think so. It was a boy with him. Jake." Then he saw the contained tears in the woman's eyes. His own eyes glazed over before he could look away. A soft frost covered them in a chilling caress. When his eyes returned to their usual light grey, he took Gwen's hand in his. "I'm sorry." He squeezed lightly. She squeezed back tears rolling down her cheeks. "I'm not, I'm grateful to have met her." The moment stretched, then she playfully pulled his hand. "Come, I'll bring you to the temple." Harlan raised an eyebrow, and she added, "I can't have you see dozens of visions on the way and never make it there." They both chuckled.
At the top of the temple, a few people were walking in and out. An old healer was at the door welcoming the visitors. When he saw Harlan approaching, his face grew dark. "What are you doing here, murderer?" Harlan raised an eyebrow, "They started first," he answered in an exaggerated childish voice. "How are you, Raven, still… old and frail?" Gwen was gaping, a hand over her mouth. She was torn between horror and laughter. The mix made a weird sound.
Raven didn't back down, "And when was the last time you took a life?" Harlan made a show of counting on his fingers, "one, two, three… it was more than three days ago." The old man squinted, trying to discern if it was a joke. Harlan added some oil to the fire, "But I told him not to do it, several times, I've been a good boy." The old healer shook his head, giving up. "And what brings you to our doorstep?" The warrior answered, "I've seen Gareth. I'm bringing news to his mother." The old man's face grew angry, " Absolutely not." He started to close the temple door. "You've seen my son?" Asked a soft voice. A tall woman appeared from the darkness of the hallway behind; long, silky white hair, wrinkles that were all love and smiles, blue eyes that warmed up hearts just by looking at them.
Harlan and the old lady were sitting in one of the more comfortable rooms of the temple. The healer said, "We have milk, would you want some?" Harlan smiled, "I would like that very much, Stella." They cheered and drank, the silence hesitated between cozy and uncomfortable. Stella broke the silence, "If you're here, something happened to him. You're not bringing good news." Harlan looked at her in the eyes, unflinching, "No good news, but I bring hope too."
When Harlan finished his story, the mother was massaging her temple. "No good news indeed." She took his hand, "Thank you, though, I'd rather know." She looked at the small window, a square of light in the darkness. "And you're right, there's hope. That he survived the corruption this long is unprecedented." She drummed her fingers on the table. "This Jake seems like a good fellow. You say you saw that he will help him?" Harlan nodded. "Did you see my son's death?" The seer's eyes wavered, "I don't see everything." The mother looked at him intensely, the man didn't flinch.
They drank another glass. The mother muttered, "Why did he not return? Why did he leave?"
Harlan played the game and answered quietly. "He thought he failed you, he thought he failed the healers. He couldn't face what he had done." Stella shook her head angrily, "He was a teenager, far from a trained healer, no one reproached him. He did all he could." She laid her head in her hands. "He left. And to do what? To become a fighter, to maim and kill." Harlan gently said, "To become a protector, so a healer would not even be needed." The mother's eyes were wide when she looked at Harlan. She spoke louder, quicker, "Great, so he gets to live his little dream of shiny knights. And what about me?" She got up and raised her voice even more, "What about me, Harlan?" She screamed as she slammed her fist on the table, "That day I lost them both, my husband and my son." Harlan gently cradled the bruised, wrinkled hand. A small current of pink mist flowed from his fingers. The bruise slowly disappeared. He looked at the mother in the eyes and whispered softly, "It hurts."
They sat in silence for a while, the square of light slowly turned red. Stella got up, laid her hand on Harlan's shoulder for a few moments. She squeezed gently and left the room without a word.
Harlan remained sitting long after the darkness claimed the land.