Ficly

Remember

Lazarus shook his head softly, pressing two finger to his temple as he watched the sun slowly sink behind the looming mountains he and his little brother knew so well. Beside him, clad in the emerald cloak once so proudly worn, was his apprentice. It made his heart ache to see it not concealing the face of his grizzled kin, but he had come to terms with it. He had to, after all. He was the joker. The fool. The thief. The annoyance who people put up with. Shifting in the grass, the older man sighed.

“Hard to believe ’e’s gone, isn’t it?”

The apprentice uttered not a word.

“Even harder to think the only reason they showed up was to make sure ‘is feet stopped twitchin’,” Lazarus added grimly. The boy couldn’t respond as his shoulders heaved with a silent sob. After all, emotions were a sign of weakness.

Lazarus regarded Davey with a slightly choked up phrase.

“Go ahead and cry, boy. He ain’t gonna put an arrow through ya now.”
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