The Grey Tower

Another evening since the last time he had been here, what seemed a lifetime ago now. The same tavern, of course, he liked the place and besides that he had made promises to visit every so often. They were thankful for his coin but more thankful for the other things he did for them, problems solved and issues settled. It surprised him how much Hama Valoners respected those of the Grey Tower. He had noted a touch more respect since his new title had been given to him.

Not a clerical error then, strangely comforting. I do wonder what others see in me sometimes he told himself as he sipped from his cup with amusement.

Not strictly true, though, he knew it now even if it had taken a while to realise it. And to be told from a number of mouths. He was having the celebration that he had not had time to have before - that he was Gaidin, alive and still possessed of the core of himself which made him who he was. He had seen many lose themselves along the way, had lost parts of himself at times. Now he was alive and whole, despite the wars along the way. It was a time for celebration. He was sitting upon the balcony, ankles crossed upon the table beside him and watching the stars.

"To being Gaidin...and that which comes with it. May this Tower stand for all of the turnings of the Wheel" he toasted to himself as a cheer rose up from downstairs.

He had said that he would have many holidays, breaks from the work that was essential. He took whatever time he could, wherever he could. It was the only way to enjoy life. Business had brought him to the city but good cheer had kept him there. He glanced at the sacks beside his chair and fancied that Klarick would be proud of the deal struck. He supposed only time would tell, the man was affable as an innkeeper but steely as a merchant prince.

He sipped his wine once more and settled back into his chair to see what the evening would bring.