Kris looked up at the fire. He prepared his food inside the pot and placed it over the fire. He leaned back and rubbed the back of his neck. He glanced to his worn black attire by his pack. His sword leaned on his chest. So many things ran through his head, he took out a map and looked it over as he waited for the food to cook. He had been looking at roads going all over bree-land. He finally placed the map down and looked over at his pack, he stood up and reached over to rummage through it, he took out some letters. He glanced through them, all written by him. They were addressed to those close to him. He shook his head at the thought of it. People close to him, close to his heart. He had worked so hard to put up a front of hate, coldness and anger. Now here he is, thinking of the people he cares for.
Dryn, the young man he met that night the assassins attacked. Dryn would come to Kris constantly after that. Back when he was sworn to Gwaed. He hated it, he didn’t care what Dryn wanted or who he was. Then he saw more of himself in the young man and found himself wondering about him at times. He would try to block it out but he could not, he cared for him. He soon was helping Dryn with training and giving him guidance, a chance to be an older brother figure. Be a brother like Caliko was to him.
There was Aeruthuil who had trained Kris when he was a prideful, adventurous boy. The man was harsh in his teaching but the teaching meant something, it taught him how to do everything he knows now from surviving in the wild to wielding a sword. He watched the man put up a front of his own, a front of being okay when things weren’t fine with him. His emotions always kept in check, Honestly Kris believes that is were he learned this coping. As his world shattered, he did the only thing he could think of to keep going and that was to take what he saw in his role model.
Lady Ces, she was the light that always came into Kris’s darkness. When he would look at the reality she fought for him to look at the long road and the consequences of his actions. He thought he knew well, but he was blunt in most of his actions and never cared for the impact of the families of those who fell to his blade who perhaps merely made a wrong turn on their path. She cares for Kris a great deal, she pushes him to become softer and to look at life not as a tragedy but as a blessing.
Brandilyn, she loves Kris and deep down Kris knows this. He merely could not show his feelings for her soon enough. He should of fought for her instead of retreating back to his wall of cold. He may of had a chance for a family, something normal. He deep down still loves her but he cannot show that love, never. That would only hurt Brandilyn worse.
Barliman butterbur, the innkeeper who tolerated Kris’s leaning on his posts without buying anything, his meetings of secret in the back rooms. The man who gave him an earful for his violence in the inn, whether good or bad but still a tolerating man who watched Kris grow since he was a boy. That boy who wandered in wearing dark green garbs with a cheerful band of adventurous, singing, drinking and dancing on tables. Sometimes he would glance to the man as the innkeeper watched him briefly perhaps wondering where that boy went.
He glanced to the letters and saw the last letter. Amanda, she was just a little girl when he saw her, he was a young man with his cheerful band, she was with her mother and she seemed happy. As the years went on, they weren’t kind to Kris but neither Amanda. A man screamed in her face in front of the pony and Kris found himself stepping in. She was afraid of him at first and then soon, she was following him, staying close to him. She spoke to him, seeking comfort. Comfort was not something he thought he could give. Perhaps it was the security of a man with a large sword who looked like he has been in a few fights or perhaps it was Kris’s knack for stepping into protect someone. He then found himself watching her, making sure she was safe. He watched her go to her home, he made sure she would be taken care of. She brought him truly out of his wall. Amanda is Kris’s hope. When he wakes up in the morning he doesn’t strap his sword on his back and walk to Bree to fight all the battles he can to help people, or to keep the promise he made his dying brother, no he fights to make sure Amanda lives in a safe world. Whenever he has been in a mess where he thought he may not live through it, Amanda as drove him to pick himself up, take his sword with two hands and fight. As he throws himself in danger, the words of Lady Ces sit in his mind. “People care about you, whether you want that or not.” Amanda, he now finds himself more cautious in his fights, because she needs him and he needs her. She needs a father who is around and he needs the hope she brings in her heart to fill his heart.
He leaned back on the log, tossing the letters into the fire. A small smile creeped on his lips as he thought of those close to him, he looked at the stars. He thought of Caliko, Gwaedhiell and all his friends who passed. He wonders if they have been watching him from the stars, worrying about him. He smiles still up to the stars. “Don’t worry...I’ll be fine.” He looks to the smoking pot, burning food again it seems. He reaches for the pot to take it off, for all he seemed to be good at, cooking is not one. He grumbled and salvaged what he could. He ate and layed on his mat, watching the fire die. He tightens his hold on his sword and shuts his sore eyes. Drifting off to a sleep where he dreamed of good things for once.
