On the night of the new moon two figures walked side-by-side to the edge of the woods. One was tall and slender, his long hair a tail of silver in the starlight that shone all the more brightly for the lack of competition in the night sky. The man was dressed in pale-colored clothes that made him stand out against the darkness, seeming more than half-spirit himself. The uncanny tilt of his eyes didn't help that image, the whites hidden in broad blue irises and slitted pupils. At his hip was a slender sword, cold steel and intricately swept hilt, and at his side was a shorter young woman with eyes even darker than his own and tawny hair kissed with gold that was swept back for their night's work. In one hand she held a staff topped with glowing red luxere antlers, and from one of their tines hung a lantern, beautifully ornate and glowing with a steady light from a white candle.
"Ready?" he asked her with a quirk to his lips that revealed the challenge and the excitement that he otherwise hid behind a pretense of calm. He stretched out tentatively to takeAmalia 's free hand in his own, as if still finding it strange and a little unsettling to reach out so willingly to another, and as they stepped beneath the branches of the trees he lifted his sweet, low tenor and began to sing. The melody was one he had not learned, but had been given, and with the music he called, coaxing the lost ones to come in out of the dark, offering comfort and reassurance.
Welcoming them to come home, at last, to Ludo's lantern - and, eventually, to Mort's everlasting love.
"Ready?" he asked her with a quirk to his lips that revealed the challenge and the excitement that he otherwise hid behind a pretense of calm. He stretched out tentatively to take
Welcoming them to come home, at last, to Ludo's lantern - and, eventually, to Mort's everlasting love.