“There’s no point waiting for winter. Convincing the others may be difficult though. Some of them have been here for years.” He paused, his expression oddly sheepish. “I didn’t kill the bear.”
“What?”
“During the Test of the Wild. I didn’t kill it. The shelter I built collapsed in the wind. I was desperate, freezing, wandering in the snow. I found a cave and thought the Departed had guided me to shelter. Unfortunately, the bear who lived there didn’t appreciate visitors. It chased me for miles, all the way to the edge of a cliff. I managed to grab on to a branch, the bear wasn’t so lucky. Kept me fed for a while though.”
Vaelin laughed, the sound was strange amidst the ruins, out of place. “You bloody liar.”
Nortah grinned. “Next to the bow it was my major talent.” His smile faded. “I’ll miss you, and the others. Can’t say I’m sorry about the Battle Lord though.”
They walked back to the camp, fed the waning fire and talked of the Order and their brothers for hours. When Nortah finally went to the shelter he shared with Sella, Vaelin settled down in his cloak knowing that in the morning he would wake early and leave without a farewell. The reason came to him before he tumbled into sleep:
Part IV