A Fathers Thoughts 

Ilthraros stretched along the cliff side, winding its way in and out of the mountain rock. The small village of survivors barely making it through a single winter was now a city filled with life, a warm home for the people of the Reaches. 

Asger watched the streets of the city from a small peak he hiked almost every day. Looking down on his home he was proud. Proud of what his people had built, proud of who they had become, proud of the peace they had found. A tang of morning struck him, Asger knew peace never lasted, and this time, this time they were going to make the first move. 

He did not want war, but when the call to bring the fight to the Ascillians came, Asger did not even think, he let his inner flame steer his will. In a heartbeat he gave his support and in two his advisers did the same. It might have been foolish, but the anger, the hatred that resided in him could not be ignored or tossed aside. Asger suspected it was the same for his advisers, and if that was not enough their loyalty to him probably pushed them forward. 

The Ascillians had not just invaded, they had burnt their towns, massacred their people, and then, then they left. Not because we truly beat them, no. They left because the war was no longer economically reasonable, not enough territory, not enough plunder, not enough gained. Their atrocities were not demanded by a god wanting holy war, it was not done out of need or desperation. Just tactics, cold, calculating, uncaring. Asger did not know if that made it worse or better. It certainly did not change what was done.   

Suddenly Asger felt a weight lean on him, but it did not startle him. He could sense the intent, the warmth, the love. For a while they stayed like this. Asger sat on the snow with a pelt, and Hertha leaning on him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

“You have been up here longer than you tend to.” Her voice, calm but attentive. Moving to sit beside Asger she spoke again. “I can see the worry on your face. I worry too.”

“When I was a younger man, I did not understand how old men could send the young to war, and now here I sit. An old man sending his own son to fight in a war, not for survival, not to defend his people, but to take revenge.” Asger’s voice was low, mournful, but also laced with anger. Anger towards the Ascillans, anger at the alliance for going to war. Anger toward himself for sending his son. 

“You did not force Jandar, he volunteered, you saw the determination in him.” Hertha’s words were meant to sooth but she could not keep the slight bit of blame out of her tone.

Asger knew that Jandar had his own reasons for volunteering, but he could not lie. Some part of him probably did it to make Asger proud as well as show that he was ready to lead. For a good while they both sat in silence, leaning on each other, watching the city. A group of young human merchants had arrived. Clearly not ready for the cold up in the mountains, waddling the streets, searching for a tavern like lost penguins. It was always fun to watch when young merchants arrived at Ilthraros, never truly prepared if they had not been here before, even in summer.  

“I know he is a man now, and a good one at that, but Hertha, I still see the small boy playing in front of the fireplace. The concentration on his face while trying to fix the shears.” There was a bit of amusement in his voice, but it faded quickly. “I am a father, proud of his children, but to let them do what they feel is right, let them fight for what they believe in. Let them fight for their old man’s rage. Even if their own choice is difficult. I pray that the path he walks ends in peace eventually”

“I hope so as well. For now we will just have to believe that his strength and his allies will keep him safe and alive.” Hertha’s voice now a bit more hopeful. “Now I think it’s time to head back, you are still the chieftain after all” A slightly teasing tone to her words. 

“You are right,” Asger responded, giving Hertha a kiss and standing up. “But it might be time to give way to the young,” Asger said in a whisper.