Erik's father was nowhere to be seen, his bed empty, and his candle unlit.
Impossible.
Nothing seemed right anymore. He wanted her back—wanted to go back to a previous point in time and set things right. But no, that was just an irrational thought.
Lia was not going to come back.
It was close to afternoon, and a low wind howled through the ruins of Erik's inn, not a patron to be seen. The building creaked, moaned, a wooden plank crashing down from somewhere as Erik paced around his father's room, trying to comprehend what had happened earlier between Alaric and the strange man, or fae, or whatever, who called himself Aedan. And also what had happened to his father, who'd been at rest just the night before.
Nothing made sense. He liked to think himself as the most down to Earth person in Westerland. He was like any other boy who wanted love, a good life, and happiness. But all this talk about mother, about fae, selkies made him want to quit life. He didn't know what to think anymore. And if he was going to be honest with himself, Erik didn't want to think anymore.
He'd never held a weapon before in his life, but when he saw that man—no, fae—hurt his beloved, he wasn't going to sit around and let it stand. A real man would defend his home from the likes of invaders, not let them traipse in, break things, and cause a ruckus, right?
But what had happened was a little more than just a ruckus, however. Lia was dead, and with a part of her room having collapsed into the inn's lobby, Erik wasn't sure where he was supposed to put her for the time being. Or hell, where he supposed to put her at all, at this point. When he thought about burying her, his heart ached. How is someone even supposed to do something like this?
For now, the boy continued to pace, angry, bitter, and pretty sure that he could have done better somehow. Lia would never get to see her home again—wherever that was—and Erik, well, he'd never get to see her again at all. That's the way of things, he figured. Life, death, loss, the things no one really thinks about until finally, every damned facet of one's existence turns around for the absolute worst.
Erik shook his head, working his way back down into the inn's tavern hall. He passed behind his counter, where Lia used to take her rest, imagining that she was still there, sleeping like a baby. But no matter how hard he thought about her, no part of the happiness they'd shared together could help mend the fact that that man had killed her in cold blood.
He clenched a fist. If ever he found that Aedan character, Erik vowed to take his life as well. It only seemed right. One soul for another. That's how the world operated, didn't it? If someone takes something, you take it back, or take something of equal value.
Sitting at the counter, Erik watched as Alaric emerged from outside with a small body wrapped in a bit of cloth, as though readied for some sort of ceremony.
Erik gaped. "What are you doing with her?" he said through gritted teeth. "I thought you were supposed to be gone."
"Go get that dagger off the floor." Alaric said simply.
"Why?"
Alaric sighed, putting Lia aside on a withstanding table for a moment. "We're going to burn her." He tossed a woolen pouch his way.
A sudden realization dawned on Erik as he regarded it with disdain. "No. I'm going to bury her," he argued. "Right here by this inn."
"It's not what she would have wanted. If you know what she is, then you'll also know that I speak the truth, and nothing more."
"I don't want your truths," Erik spat. "I want to be left alone. I don't care what you have to say. Just go away!"
"Lad," Alaric said with the voice of authority. "She does not belong here."
Erik looked down, almost ashamedly. "How are you supposed to know what she is?"
"Aside from Aedan's own words," Alaric began, "one learns—as you mortals so like to put it—that the devil is in the details."
"What do you mean?"
"In my thousands of years of living, I should very well know the look of the sea people," Alaric said confidently. "Her manner of walking is different than most, as though she'd been travelling the land only recently. Her eyes grey, though she is not blind. And her soul—something you humans can never hope to see inside another living thing—empty and full of longing."
"I don't understand," Erik shouted, pounding the counter once. "I don't understand!"
"You can't," Alaric said simply. "But all I ask is that she be burned, and if you'd be willing, allow me to spread her ashes across the northern sea."
Erik blinked.
"If you don't," Alaric said, looking to the side a bit. "Then understand, that you do her people a great dishonor, for truly, she is the last of the selkies to have lived in this part of the world."
Erik put his head down, using his arms as a rest as he thought about Alaric's words. He contemplated what the right thing to do was, his mind in a fog as he fought against his indecision.
"I feel that if I ever left, even with you, the call of the sea would become too strong. Which is why I asked you, that if ever you found it in you to take me yourself, that that would be the way I would see my home again someday."
He laughed at the irony of the situation. His stomach hurt, feeling the need to vomit at this point as a debilitating sickness festered inside him. She wanted to be at sea so badly, yet, all these years, he'd been the one keeping her at the inn, whether he knew it or not. That's how strong her love was—so strong that she'd actually told him the bane of her staying with him, just so that they might not lose each other.
Now though, with everything falling apart, Erik finally started to understand, if just a bit. He'd been selfish. It was only right that she returned to the sea in the end...albeit, now, it would be as a symbolic gesture of remembrance.
But before anything else, Erik had one question. "Why do you want to help me?"
Alaric clenched a fist. "I failed my bargain with you to some extent," he said with a grunt. "And so, I owe you a small debt."
"Small?" Nothing about journeying to the northern shore was 'small' at all.
"I'll be up there someday," he said gently, uncharacteristic of his typically gruff self. "By giving her to me, you can rest easy. At least in some way, she'll have had been to the sea again, I suppose."
Erik shook, tearing as he buried his face in his hands.
"Lad?"
"I just don't know what to do." He shook his head. "I can't do it. You do the burning instead if you think this is so right."
Alaric nodded. "Very well. I assumed it was something that you would have wanted to do, if you'd wanted to do it at all, but that is fine." He sighed, looking around the devastation as he walked forward to get the small pouch back. "I'll offer you a blessing."
Erik cocked a brow.
"I know a merchant that's been in need of land. A wealthy one," Alaric started to say. "When he comes, his view of this inn will be grandiose, and thus, he will take it from you at a very inflated price."
"That's—" Erik shook his head. "What will I do with the return?"
"Find a home," Alaric said simply. "And if you happen upon my daughter, tell her to find me in the northern part of the world. Near the shore."
"You're too kind."
Alaric took Lia into his arms again. "There was a time I wasn't," he said, making his way toward the exit.
Sighing, Erik put his head down again.
But then he got up. "Wait," Erik called out, making his way to Alaric. "I want something."
Alaric cocked a brow. "What?"
"A lock of her hair," he said simply.
The fae nodded, setting Lia aside once more. Walking off to the side, he picked Aedan's dagger off the floor. "Cut quickly," he advised, handing the dagger to Erik. "And fret not. You will not be soiling her."
Grasping a lock, it was startlingly easy how Lia's hair came off. Erik let the lock rest his hand, and the blade dangle out of the other.
"Done?"
Erik nodded, feeling the chill of the outside air bite at his skin. "Done," he said, a longing sadness in his voice. Tying the lock, he put it into his pocket. It's all I'll ever have to remember you by...
Taking back the dagger, Alaric took Lia's body back into his arms a final time, going toward the outside once more. "I'll be gone by tomorrow," he said, walking towards one of the breaches. "Know that I won't forget my promise to you."
Erik closed his eyes.
But what about my promise to her?
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