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. Across the room he could see
Riana, weeping in Karel's arms, one hand stroking her brother's
face. Against his neck he could feel the faint breath of the dying
boy, warm yet with the life that faded with each moment. He
doesn't want death, Tanis realized then, but only permission.
"Yes." Tanis whispered the word the boy wanted to hear, the
blessing the mage never gave. Weakly, the boy looked up,
searching, and then smiled.
"I love you. Father."
"I know it," Tanis breathed, choking on the words. "But go,
now, and go with my love." For one moment he would have taken
back his words. Then the boy sighed, a small shudder like the
fluttering of a moth's wings. Tanis's arms tightened around the frail
body, empty now of life, and he bowed his head.
After a long while, he heard Flint stir beside him. The half-elf
did not resist when his friend lifted the boy from his arms and set
him gently back on the bed.
"Are you all right, lad?"
Tanis nodded.
"What are you thinking about?"
"That all these people were moved by love to do what they did.
Riana and her brother, Karel, and even the mage and his son. But
look how bitter the harvests were."
"Aye," Flint said, reaching down to help him to his feet. "Some
fruits are bitter."
Tanis touched the peaceful face of the boy on the bed, thinking
that it might only have been sleep that smoothed away the sharp
lines of pain and not death. "And some are never harvested at all
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