from the Journal of Krish...
It has been a long day of walking but we have come far, over halfway home if I am correct. I believe we will see the valley tomorrow evening if we can keep up the pace. I am tired, like I have not felt since the last days of the war. My grief has been replaced with a dull ache that starts in my feet all the way to my back. Maybe it is age, maybe it has been the lazy summers of sailing and casual living.
Sam and I talked very little today. I think our thoughts are centered around making it home as soon as possible. Our feelings, as deep as they run, are buried under the task at hand and filled with grief. I don't know what to think, what to feel. I am as lost as the day we came home years ago, maybe more so.
Carnac had found home. He had a wife and a place to live out the rest of years. He had found the peace that, even now, has eluded the rest of us. Only four years, most of which the rest of us spent wandering. Even over the long distances, it has not been hard to keep track of my old friends, gossip of the Chosen travels the winds.
I regret that the last message I sent to Carnac was this past spring form the Grove at Ludin. We should have travled back long before now. I miss those evenings under the night sky, sharing a pipe and a mug of ale and talking of the trees and the stars.
Time to drink my tea, rest and try to get some sleep. Somehow, Sam produced a stew with some of the dried meat and set a small bowl down next to me. I just noticed the aroma. I am more hungry then I thought and by the look on her face, the small smile, she knew. At least the smile returned, even in a moment to breathe, it felt like the sun on a misty river.