Three men kneel to get a better view of a human skull lying in the desert. One of the men has picked up a small object, studying it closely.
Reid
"I’d found my father’s grave. It had been a long and hard journey, but it was the first time I could admit that he was never coming back."

Lucas asks, "What brought you to the desert to seek your father’s grave?"

"The short answer," Reid replies, "is a Trump Dworkin gave me. The long answer is, well, not that much longer. I was young, I was pissed, and I wanted closure."

Marius asks, "I heard of your search for your missing, then deceased, father. Other than his skull, what else did you find on your quest for your father’s grave?"

"The skull was only one of many bones. There were no great relics to be found... no signet rings or family swords to take up. Just decay. Nonetheless, I did take one of my father’s legbones and fashion a flute from it. It has become, in fact, my favorite instrument for sentimental, if not morbid, reasons."

Ossian asks, "Who are the other two men?"

Reid considers this. "They were all me at a turning point in my life. The picture shows the young, headstrong self, hell bent on completing his self-imposed quest to find his father; the suddenly sobered self in the present, facing the mortality of man for the first time; and the resolute future, knowing that I would have to go on and make a life for myself, and hope to end my days in a better way than he had."

Osric "Were you able to determine how he died?" wonders Vere.

Reid smiles. "There have been many differing stories of my father’s demise. Some say he was overcome by pressure in an ocean free diving tournament. Some say he, mortally wounded, caused an explosion that killed himself and his enemy. Others say he was brought down helping a spy escape while on a mission for the state. There are even rumors that he is still alive and playing drums in an underground transportation complex, though I don’t quite understand how that one got started, myself."

"No," he continues, "I believe the last battle, the final combat was one-on-one with an enemy he knew. It was fought without a word spoken -- both parties knew that they were fighting their own cause, and argument would never sway the other. But I’m sure things were far from black & white. In the end, one man walked away and my father’s bones were left in desolation."

"I don’t know who his enemy was, and I have no wish for vendetta. If anything, I blame the pattern for taking him away from me."

Pastoral Aisling asks, "What about your mother-- what was your relationship with her like?"

Reid seems a bit uncomfortable, and weighs his words carefully. "We were not close. Well, that’s not entirely true. We were close when we were young, but when my father would go off into shadow, she would become overly protective of me, and I grew to resent that. I miss her now, of course. She was against my quest, and I never made it back to Amber to make things right with her. I have no hopes that she’s still alive though. I was away far too long..."

Jerod says, "We would appear to have something in common. I have no question to ask of you, though I would ask a favor. One day, tell me of your journey, and your father. In return, I will tell you of mine."

"I will look forward to that day, Jerod," Reid replies.

In the somber night, a musician casts warmth into the surroundings through his song. The light is dim and shadows obscure the musician’s face. The surrounding homes and shops have their windows boarded and their doors locked.
Reid
"This is me, the musician tired of wandering, seeking a new place to take me in. The soul of the musician is only concerned in finding notes to appease himself. The ego of a musician hopes that others are listening to his soliloquy."

Folly, barely able to contain her excitement, asks, "What instruments and styles of music do you play?"

"I play all manner of things to varying degrees of skill. When travelling, or alone, I prefer the flute. It is compact and easy to take with me, and the tones are pure. I’ve dabbled in other wind instruments, have a fair amount of experience with various stringed instruments. I’ve done some minor work with percussion as well."

"Stylistically, I find myself most interested in the local folk music of the lands I visit, though there are only a few shadows where I have spent enough time to really get a good feel for their nature. My own compositions most likely don’t fit into any pigeonholes, though I suppose I could find a shadow where they were all the rage if I wanted."

"What of yourself? What instruments and styles of music do you play?"

A dark-haired refugee watches the valley and the spark of light that emanates from the village below. Concern troubles his dark countenance and his clothes are torn from fighting, perhaps from his flight.
Reid

Brita

"There goes my home -- there goes my village. Another hope at setting my roots dashed. Was the young one to blame? I’d been bound to look after her since it happened..."

Jovian asks, "What brought this destruction about, and how could this little girl be responsible?"

"The vengeance of a moral child. Brita doesn’t remember too many details, but it is safe to say she was not yet in control of her strength or herself. I hope that over the years I have been able to teach her more about both. We did return after a few years, though I continued to be her teacher."

Brita asks Reid in a small voice, "Did you ever decide to blame her?"

Reid smiles, "No, Brita. No blame from me, and you have answered to the others you hurt."

Paige asks, "You lost hope of settling down, but hold no grudges? Rather good natured of you. Do you still hope to find a place where you can settle quietly, and if so can you tell me about it?"

"Good natured? Not really. But it isn’t the first time I’ve been displaced, and it will doubtless not be the last. That one instance should be the fault of a girl who didn’t know better doesn’t inspire any particular grudges. As to future hopes of settling down, I’m hoping that Amber will have me once again. I have no great desire to travel, and I prefer not to muck about in Shadow if I can avoid it. Amber seems like the most ‘real’ place to be."

A young girl dressed in worn clothes sits beneath an ancient oak tree. Her attention is focused upward, her eyes peering into the face of another standing near. He is dressed in leathers with a single white feather dangling from his ear.
Reid

Brita

Fiona

"And so I taught her what I could. I’d been a teacher before, but this time I was supposed to be a protector as well. I wasn’t as comfortable in that role. Still, knew deep down that the girl was of my blood. I’d lost too many relatives already. I’d do what I could for her."

Daeon asks, "I understand this was a cousin: what is her name and how did you meet?"

"It’s a bit more complicated than that. I suppose I met Brita the day she was born. You see, I was the one who sent Vidar, Brita’s father, to rescue Fiona that day in the mountains. Thus I am responsible for the two of them meeting, and by extension, indirectly responsible for Brita’s existence. Though I am not a parent myself, I feel some of the duty a parent must feel. Or at least SHOULD feel. It was through my intervention that she came to be born, and it will not be through my negligence that she may die."

Solange queries, "Is she still under your care, and do you plan to introduce her to your Amber family?"

"Yes, we still travel together, and I continue to teach her what I can about the things that interest her, and things I feel she should know. Once she comes to find more relatives, and the many new things that Amber will afford her, I will be willing to let her explore her new world. I don’t expect to be her teacher forever, because who am I to presume to be a better teacher than life itself?"

Reid continues, "Benedict is the only family I have left in Amber that might know me. I have been away a long time. When I left, Eric was still young. I understand that Oberon has had many more children since then, but I know none of them. As to Brita’s family, I don’t know how Fiona will react to my bringing her daughter to Amber. I have a feeling she might not be happy with me though."

Brennan asks Reid, "I see that you have been Brita’s mentor and gaurdian for many years. What is the most important lesson that you have failed to teach her, and how far would you go to instill that lesson?"

"The lesson I didn’t teach her was that of Amber. That information was intentionally withheld from her, and I hope she will forgive me for that some day. As to instilling that lesson, I’m sure she will learn a great many things when we do finally make it to the courts. I’m hoping her mother will take time to do some of the educating though, for in truth, I know little of what has happened in the last 2000 years at the castle. Time flies when you’re lost in shadow."

Dworkin Merlin asks, "What is the most important lesson you learned in your travels, and from whom did you learn it?"

"Damn, Merlin, of all the cousins you ask the hardest. It’s been a long time. How about, 'Sometimes there’s no going home.' Dworkin instilled that in me pretty well, handing me a one way trump to a place whose roads didn’t lead to Amber. He warned me. I’d insisted. I don’t blame him, but I still have no idea the nature of my roadblocks, which causes me a great deal of frustration when I let it."

The dark sky frames a riot of color. Blues and greens drip from a ribbon of white that arcs across the sky. A wolf howls nearby.
"Ragnarok? Fenris? Sure, every culture had their tales of armageddon, and this seemed to match the ones the locals believed in, but how could it actually be happening?"

Lilly asks, "Did armageddon come to pass for these locals or were they spared?"

"It is not yet clear to me the extent of the aftermath. The storm wreaked its way through all of Shadow. Whether my adopted homeland survived or not, I do not know. Even if it exists, I would not be certain it was the same land I left."