It’s the night before the festival. Music plays out into the night far later than usual, accompanying the last-minute arrangements still being made in Luthier’s main square. Further out from the town though, past the Great Tree’s immense roots and closer to the older remains of houses and the ever-spinning windmills, two figures sit in the twilight.
Ludo quietly tunes his lute, typically thankful for this time after his long day, but… Well, not today. He glances at the girl next to him, who blinks as the wind brushes hair into her face, and she promptly twists it behind her ears.
“Thou art being far more quiet than usual.” She huffs, and rubs her heels into the grass beneath her. “No need to get moody with me, all of a sudden.”
“I am not being moody.” Ludo insists, before sighing and going back to his lute. “Tis… simply hard to come to terms. Ever since thou visited the water’s isle…” He trails off, and tries a note. Nope, still too flat.
She nods, understanding without words. “And yet, there is no choice in the matter. Asta must take my place, and—“
“And you’ll be gone.”
Silence takes over for a few long moments. The sage has known her place for a long time, and Ludo witnessed the rebirth of the previous sage, Vepar… They both know what comes next. It isn’t even entirely the nature of the separation, but the separation itself.
“When—“ He starts, and starts to play softly at the same time. “When my grandparents decided I would study in Luthier.. I felt as though this land hath no place for those abandoned.” The notes from the lute practically disappear into the wind, carried out to the isles they have to assume also exist. “Thou were the first friend I ever had.”
“And the best, of course.”
He smiles, ducking his head a little. His bangs fall into his eyes, and he makes no effort to move them. “So.. to be alone again, even at my age…” He looks up at her through his hair, his eyes misty. “Truly alone. Then where doth my value lie?”