EPILOGUE – My Life is Mine, I’ll See it Worth Living

The sky was a brighter blue than fate had ever promised, more vibrant than the one previous, greater still than those before, and was an omen of better times to come for all living beneath its expanse. One could be forgiven for believing its wisps of clouds within reach, and envying the crows their careless flight.

On a crudely felled stump sat a man, who was not one you might call a man, resting on his knee a hammer made to snugly fit his knotted hand – the first of its design. It was a sort of choice, both his tool and his reason for being, just as the onyx-frosted sword gathering dust on his table was both more and less than what it had once been. He wiped sweat from his forehead, enjoying the cool Norisis breeze as it dragged across his skin. Much of the Incursion’s grip over the surrounding area had been pruned back by his hand, and green was beginning to return to the fields.

A new task stood before him now. One of many in a list stretching past the horizon, and would, with any luck, only lengthen with the passage of time. When he’d enjoyed enough reprieve in the shade, he struck out again to see it fulfilled. At the moment it appeared a box with no walls, no lid, and no hinge; only a thin outline. At its foot he’d arranged a selection of nails from largest to smallest along a sheet of fabric. He chose one of proper length.

Once the nails were driven they would hold up the frame, which would hold up the wall, which would support a roof for those bereft of shelter, and a home would bloom. The organic pound of construction lent its melody to the song swelling in Ol-Lozen’s heart, for a peaceful day was all but assured. The sun was high, and the bright blue sky shown clear with promise of days in the warmth to come.