The Epic Tale of Cregan

Chapter 16: Daughter

But maybe with everything that's happened, even before coming to Aramora, just the familiarity of Regan's singing. That is honestly the one thing he has right now to really remind him of home. He can close his eyes and imagine sitting at a tavern in Sage while Regan plays a song. He always hated Sage, but he loved to hate it because it was still a part of his home. Utopia.

Who knew Aramora would make him love his hatred for everything he hates?

"Then one day, we all felt a shift in... Destiny, will not let us suffer... Now's the time, to take back what was stolen... Freedom calls, it's time that we answer..." Regan pauses to write in his book again, but the words catch Cree's attention. He glances through the window of the cabin as Regan keeps playing.

"Mortality, is what binds us together... Peace is often, so fickle... But in our hearts... It's the hope of the people... This is our home; we won't let it fall..." His voice becomes nearly a whisper as he sings 'the hope of the people' and he clears his throat. He goes to start singing the next line, but he seems to have gotten choked up so he takes a deep breath and sets the lute down beneath the bench before he just sits and stares up at the night sky.

With a deep breath of his own and a silent curse to his curiosity, Cree leaves the cabin and lets the boat sail itself and he makes his way over to Regan.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks.

Regan looks up at him and nods. "Need you even ask?"

Cree rolls his eyes and sits down beside him. They sit in silence for a moment. He doesn't know what he was anticipating to happen when he came over here. Maybe he was expecting Regan to open the conversation like he usually does. Maybe he had something he wanted to talk about but it has suddenly slipped his mind for some reason.

Or does he know what it is and is afraid of reminding himself?

To answer the question to his internal debate, he suddenly feels his heart beat a little faster. He doesn't know if it's fear or doubt or something else he doesn't have the words for, but it makes his anxieties rise. Words have always been hard for him. He finds that actions speak louder.

So, he opens the conversation by reaching down and resting his hand atop Regan's.

Regan instantly tenses and slightly flinches. He was aware the moment he sat down, but maybe he forgot in the silence. Unlikely. But it doesn't matter now, it definitely started something he can't turn back from. Not really anywhere to run on a small boat.

Regan turns his head to look at Cree quizzically. "You're... holding my hand?"

Cree narrows his eyes at him. "I can stop if you—"

"No no, that is quite alright!" Regan laughs nervously and pats his hand.

His expression fades and he looks away. Cree can tell he's trying to think of something to say. He didn't think it would be that hard for Regan to talk, since he seems to love doing it so much. They sit in silence for a moment again. Cree can't tell what seems to be looming overhead for them, but whatever it is feels heavier than he may be ready to hold. Maybe he should take more time. Well, it's kind of too late to walk away without another word.

Seeing no easy way out, Cree grumbles and forces himself to speak. "You... haven't said anything," he says while staring at the wooden floorboards.

Regan turns his gaze back over to him, but Cree doesn't meet his eyes. He tries to understand what it is he's referring to, but once again Cree Tyrell is a mystery that reveals no easy answers to the questions both spoken and unspoken. "I believe I say a lot. To what in particular are you referring?" Regan asks.