Ezran spoke more with Jalinde in those days, gently questioning her on how well she had known Seryth, seeking answers to the question that burned in his mind, of whether the cycle of the Zilv’natha had now effectively ended. Jalinde wasn’t forthcoming, though she had given up her druid training for Seryth, she admitted, late one night as Ezran drank wine and she drank cordial, watching the dancing lights of torches set around the ruin.
“I can’t return to that path,” she said, dully. It smelled like a broken dream to Ezran.
“Why not?” said Ezran. “Though I know they rarely accept one of our kind, surely there’s enough time now to prove your worth? It was your dream, was it not?”
“Yes,” she said softly, then, “but I’m with his child,” she then burst out.
Ezran was too shocked to find a reply. He looked at the ruin and wondered. Had the cycle merely continued?
Ezran was the first one Jalinde had told. Fordrellon was the next, and grim was he about it. “It’s our duty to set things to rights in Westfall now,” he said. “By Stormwind law, this child will have the rights to the title Seryth had claimed.”
“I don’t want it,” said Jalinde miserably. “I can never return to the druids if I must stay in Westfall.”
“It’s your duty,” said Fordrellon heavily.
“We all played some part in this,” Ezran broke in. “None of us can abandon Jalinde to this fate, whatever foolishness might’ve driven her actions prior. I’ll take stewardship of the title. It is fitting, for Seryth– and this child– will be my descendants as well.”
There were more exclamations of surprise all around, but Daelin was nodding, confirming the relation.
“I wish I could undo what was done to you,” Ezran said to Jalinde, “and I can understand why you’d want nothing to do with me. I feel I have a responsibility to you, though. If you don’t want the child, let me have him–or her. Let me ease the burden on you by that much at least.”
Yet Jalinde was already shaking her head. “The child is not his father. I won’t make two victims out of this tragedy. And I did love Seryth, whatever the rest of you may say. I just wish…” She trailed off.
“We all wish a lot,” said Daelin quietly. The two exchanged a knowing kind of look look, and even though Ezran also held mixed feelings for Seryth, he knew it barely scratched the surface of what those two must have felt.
“So it shall be,” said Fordrellon. “Ezran will be steward, with Jalinde at his side only if she wishes, and the child will inherit once old enough. With your forgiveness, Lord Ezran, I will take the position of captain of your guard. The scars Seryth left on Westfall will be long in healing, and some of them I caused. It would be my choice of the route to redemption.” The quel’dorei paladin looked impossibly weary.
“Forgiveness, and permission, granted,” said Ezran. He offered Jalinde his arm, careful still of her feelings, but she took it. “Let’s go home,” Ezran said softly. “Such as it is. Tomorrow is a new dawn.”
“Such as it is,” Jalinde echoed.
When the hippogryphs arrived to bear them away, she didn’t look back at the ruin.
Ezran did, though, and it gnawed at him for many years after: whether Seryth’s end had really been as final as they had all said.
He supposed he’d find out, sooner or later.
2 thoughts on “The Search for Seryth”