"Grim is dead." Her voice was a raspy monotone, strained from the screaming and crying. "My brother left three years ago. Yesterday he came home. This morning I went to talk with him. This-ss after, afternoon he . . . he died in . . in my arms." Mageria gulped down her sobs and pressed her fist to her mouth. "I just got done singing at his pyre."
Mageria just sat there for a long moment, fighting to get control of herself. Her eyes wandered around the room, between the two of them, she and Krander had managed to wreck just about every stick of furniture in her room. She'd have to replace all of it. Kander kicked through the detritus, looking about. She watched as he stopped, looking up at her mantle. Above it hung the sword that had been pulled out of the wreckage three years ago. His sword. He reached up and pulled it down, turning it from side to side to test the balance. She had cleaned it carefully once it came into her hands, the metal glowed in the candlelight with a soft warmth.
“You kept it?” His voice held a note of wonder and thanks and a smile worked its way across his face.
Mageria sighed. “After we picked it out of the rubble, yes. It was the only sign we could find that gave some sign of where you were, when you vanished.”
Mageria stayed pressed to Phelix's shoulder for a moment longer before it really sank in that they were sitting there in her room once more. A sullen anger started to burn in her chest, almost lost against the sorrow, but clear none the less. Roughly wiping at her face, Mageria got up and crossed to her bookcase, picking out one slender journal with gold leaf details and a lock. The dust on the lock clearly showed it hadn't been opened in years.
"Here. Kept this for you." She tossed it on the bed next to Phelix. Her voice started rising in anger.
“I managed to hold on to a few of your things, things that I thought you would want to make sure that no one else saw.” Phelix picked up the journal and looked over at Krander with a smile that clearly spoke of secrets that were written there. Obviously she had been right to keep it hidden from prying eyes. “I cleaned out you room myself. I thought it was my duty as your friend.” She saw both of the other men wince a bit at the tone in her voice. And at that sign of guilt her temper snapped once again, this time with anger and not crushing sorrow.
With one swift move, she crossed the room and had Krander by the throat, slamming him back against the wall. Her eyes were ice white, staring at him from a face ravaged by grief and pain.
"Now. Krander. Old friend of mine." Her fingers tightened ever so slightly. "Where the hell have you been?"