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A Legend, Act V

Act V: The Gift

Months had passed since Strite’s return to Symterra. He was quiet and thoughtful now. He was also sadder than before. He wasn’t melancholy or depressed, just sad. The Champion of Symterra spent most of his time staring out into the distance. Sometimes when he was in a group of people he would just suddenly leave.

When Danae had told Strite that he had changed the history of Gerryn, he smiled. His eyes were still absent but he had smiled, which relieved her a little.

Danae could tell that Asyria was still a sore spot for him. Whenever one of the knights mentioned the trickery she had done to get their help Strite would wince slightly but say nothing and only nod.

The people were starting to murmur about Strite’s state. They thought it was odd that he would sometimes sit and play on his recorder a Gerryn song. He would even just wander around aimlessly, lost in his own thoughts. The Symterraans thought that if Brimra was brought back to life Strite wouldn’t be prepared. “He isn’t strong enough anymore. He has grown weak,” they thought to themselves.

Danae heard these rumors and grew concerned. She called Strite to her and suggested that maybe he should go on a journey.

“You could learn new techniques and gain more knowledge,” the princess told him, hoping he would go. He needed a change and to forget about what happened.

Strite thought for a moment. He knew what Danae was doing, and he appreciated the thought. He did, however, want to forget. No, not forget but heal the wound in his heart. He still missed her. The only momentos he had of Asyria were her sash, the recorder she gave him, and the memory of her, which was slowly fading. He needed a change and maybe this trip abroad would do him some good. He knew Asyria would want him to move on, so long as he didn’t forget her.

“Yes,” Strite answered. “I’ll go.” This time the smile reached his eyes.

***

Strite woke up to the sound of seagulls crying. He remembered the storm and his ship being reduced to splinters. He also remembered lashing himself with some rope to a substantial piece of wood from the ship and then, nothing. There was nothing else he could remember. Sighing, Strite looked around him. He could see a little bit of land off in the distance. Grabbing a hold of some driftwood Strite paddled his way to the land mass.

He was so lost and confused. All he wanted was to go back home to Symterra, but he had no idea which direction Symterra was in. He was out in the middle of nowhere and was as good as dead. His only hope was to reach the land on the horizon and pray to the Gods that the inhabitants were peaceful.

His arms were beginning to tire and he was exhausted. He hadn’t eaten in days and he was thirsty. He thought of Asyria , and the thought of her spurred him on. Soon he was close to the beach. Exhausted, he let himself drift ashore.

Strite couldn’t remember when he landed on the shore. He only remembered the sound of the waves and the feeling of sand on his body. He felt his body being lifted and voices all around him. He struggled to move but his body hurt too much. He could only hear voices. There was one voice that he recognized. Strite searched far back into his mind, then he remembered.

He forced his eyes open and at first all he saw was sunlight. A face came into view. He saw brown hair highlighted from the sun and bright green eyes set in a feminine face. Strite struggled to raise his hand to touch the face of the young woman.

She was saying something but Strite couldn’t make it out. The woman took Strite’s hand in her own and held it. Her face was kind and gentle. She smoothed hair out of his face and dusted sand away as well.

Strite took his hand out of the young woman’s, startling her. Strite raised his hand and touched her face.

“Asyria,” Strite whispered and darkness fell upon him.

***

The Champion heard singing. He knew he was dreaming. Asyria was there in his dreams and she was dead. There was no way this could be real. He stirred and opened his eyes. The young woman was watching him curiously.

“You were dreaming,’’ she said quietly. It was her voice, too! “You must have led a very hard life.” She blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I could not help but over hear.” She bowed her head. “Please forgive me.”

Strite could only stare at her. She was exactly like Asyria except-except-there was something different. There was a peace about her that hadn’t been there before.

The young woman continued to talk. “My name is Airisa. We found you on the beach and brought you to our house, my family and I.”

“Where am I?” Strite asked.

“You are in Rine, in the land of Edine,” Airisa answered.

“How long?”

“How long have you been here?”

Strite nodded.

“Only a few days. You’ve recuperated faster than we thought.” She paused. Airisa liked the young man, even if she had never met him before. For some reason she felt close to him in ways she couldn’t understand. As if she had known him from somewhere or some place before. She couldn’t quite place her finger on it, but the feeling was definite.

“My name is Strite,’’ the Champion said. “I come from a land called Symterra.”

Airisa’s face brightened. “Symterra? Would you mind telling me about your country? We could walk along the beach as you tell me,” she suggested. “This would be a good chance to see how strong your legs are now and you could stretch out any stiff muscles,” she added.

Strite thought for a moment. Airisa looked exactly like Asyria. He remembered Asyria telling him about this phenomenon. She had said that it was something that the Gerryns believed in when someone was reborn again as somebody else.

...Among my people reincarnation is possible. It’s when the soul is reborn as somebody else. Sometimes, the reincarnated soul’s new body is just like the soul’s previous body...

Strite smiled. Airisa was Asyria reincarnated. Asyria was finally leading the life that she had always wanted.

“Sure,” he answered. “I’ll tell you all about Symterra as we walk.”

“Wonderful!” Airisa replied. She smiled at him in the same way Asyria had.

He smiled back at her. Suddenly, Strite didn’t feel like going home any more. Well, he amended to himself, not any time soon.

Fin.

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