Magister Hethurin Fairsong didn’t feel like eating lunch today. He hadn’t for a while, but now circumstances had changed and he still wasn’t very hungry. That was mostly because he still had a lot on his mind. Instead of fishing, or working on lessons as he often did when he wasn’t feeling well, today he had cast a teleport to Silvermoon. He had finally spoken with Terellion, and found his love still didn’t trust him and with good reason. Hethurin had so many secrets. He hadn’t realized just how many he kept. He told Terellion as many as he could think of, from telling him that Renner is his teacher and a bronze dragon, to things that he had done decades ago when he was a kid.
He felt horrible now, after admitting everything he had ever done. He decided the best way to feel better would be to make amends somehow. Some things would be more difficult than others.
He walked down the street he had teleported to and dropped a couple of letters in the mailbox. Nearby was a shop he needed to visit. The door was propped open. Though winter was less pronounced here, summer really was getting closer. Hethurin walked into the shop.
There was a man behind a counter that lined one side of the shop. The opposite wall was lined with stone tablets, most of them sitting on the ground, but some smaller models were on a shelf above the ones on the floor. The man sitting behind the counter looked up from the book he was reading as Hethurin walked in, “Can I help you?”
“I need a stone memorial made. I need it to be suitable to be placed in a garden.”
The man reached under the counter and took a binder out of one of the spaces behind it. He placed it on the counter and opened it so that Hethurin could see. It was full of example drawings.
“Did you have any specific design in mind? We can engrave anything you want on the stone.”
“Can you shape the stone?”
The man nodded and turned the page to show him some of the shapes he had designed himself.
“What about wings? Can you give it wings?”
“Wings, yes. How big do you want the stone to be?”
Hethurin turned and pointed to one of the stones on the floor. While not massive, it wouldn’t get lost in the flowers and shrubs. “I’d like something like that.”
“Yes. I can do something like that with wings. What name do you want on it?”
The man raised a brow, “Bug?”
“Just Bug, that’s it? Is it a nickname?”
“Oh, umm, maybe Magister Bug. We could make him an honorary magister.”
The man smiled and nodded as he wrote down his notes. “Anything else you would like on the stone? When was Magister Bug born and when did he die?”
“Oh, he died about 80 years ago. I don’t really know when he was born. We can just put when he died. Can you put a little phrase after? I wrote a poem.”
“Yes we can put a short poem on the stone as well. What is it?”
“Okay. Write this down.” Hethurin cleared his throat as the man looked up from his notes, his brow slightly raised. “I wake up in the morning and I wonder why. Why did you have to die? Your life was so short and it’s not fair. I bet you think I didn’t care. But I did, and perhaps too much. I’m sorry I treated you as such. I can’t bring you back, but I wanted you to know. You’re not forgotten, so don’t think so!”
Hethurin nodded, “Should it be longer? I could write more.”
“No, I think Magister Bug would appreciate all you’ve done in his honor already.”
“Great! When will the stone be ready?”
“Next week if you pay now.”
Hethurin nodded and handed the man a bag of coins. His first secret was taken care of.