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Deep in the forests of Pravarus, down a winding trail and up a hill, you will find a cottage. Its walls are cobblestone, overgrown with vines, and no smoke rises from the chimney. If you were to pull the leaves off of the front door, you would find a battered and faded sign. Despite its age, you could see how it was hand painted with love, the words “Peter and Elena’s Home” written with a multitude of colours, and little depictions of lizards, rocks, flowers, and hearts scattering the border. Upon trying the door handle, after a brief struggle you will find the door swings open, rust flaking off the hinges, and the sunlight streaming into the interior will light up countless specks of dust as the movement kicks them up.
The interior would be, of course, uninhabited. The overgrown exterior should’ve made that much abundantly clear. Yet, despite the silence, it doesn’t feel eerie. There’s a comfort in the stillness of this house, in the way it has lain untouched for so long.
Walking in, you would spy a dining table with four chairs around it. Tracks on the floor show which two have been dragged out the most frequently - the chairs right next to each other, angled ever so slightly towards each other. Barely enough to notice if you were used to it. Sitting atop the table is a vase, near empty except for some stagnant water sitting in the bottom and some dust floating within that might have once been flowers.
Upon exploring more of the house, you would see many drawings and paintings and notes stuck to the walls. There’s so many, but maybe a few in particular catch your eye. Perhaps the professional looking portrait of two smiling faces, assumedly elderly due to the greys and wrinkles, yet in their eyes a sense of fulfilment and love that gives them an air of youth. Or maybe the paper, crumpled from perhaps a long time spent in a pocket or bag, that simply says “Happy Anniversary to the most wonderful partner in the world. I love you.” Or even the note stuck to the door of a cabinet in the kitchen, in quickly scrawled handwriting, reading “2 btl milk, bread, eggs, 3kg live crickets, sugar, oranges.”
One’s attention could only be kept on the walls for so long, as a scurry of movement out of the corner of your eye may make you realise this house isn’t as uninhabited as you expected. If you’re quick enough, you’ll catch a glimpse of the lizard as it sneaks down into the hallway.
Following the lizard, your attention would certainly be captured by what could only be described as a shrine upon the wall of the hall. A massive painting of an impressive suit of armour, lights glinting within the shadowy depths of the helmet, wielding an impossibly large weapon. Beneath the painting is a shelf, with candles that lay unlit and nearly entirely burned out. The candles are arranged around a helmet that seems to match the one in the painting.
And maybe, just maybe. If you stopped and stared at the helmet for long enough. In the creaking of the floorboards and the glints of sunlight that peek through the window and reflect onto the helmet, you could catch glimpses of what this helmet has seen here.
“What about here?” A nasally voice asks.
A glimpse of brown hair, round glasses, and suddenly the helmet has been put down.
“Hmm.” Another, lower voice responds.
White hair glinting in the sunlight. Pale eyes, and dark circles on grey skin.
“That looks perfect, Peter. If only he were here to see it.”
“Yeah…”
The two figures hug.
“Good morning, Thanatos!” The nasally voice, Peter, it must be, calls cheerfully.
Peter stops, placing a hand gently on the side of the helmet, and stares out the window.
“The weather is nice today. I think I’m going to go and look for more rocks to add to my collection. You know I found that really pretty fossiliferous limestone the other day. That was, wow. That was something else. I’m feeling good about today. I miss you. Hope you’re doing okay, wherever you are.”
And, after a gentle smile, he walks away.
“Thanny!” A voice, who by now you’ve figured to be Elena, huffs as they walk down the hall towards you.
“Could you believe the nerve of some people? I waited in line to get some of Peter’s favourite pastries - those round ones with that special strawberry jam that’s not quite the same anywhere else - and this lady cut in front of me! I considered saying something, but I thought it best not to cause a scene. But oh, oh could you believe this, she bought the last of them! There were none left for me to get for Peter!”
Elena sighs angrily, rummaging around in the basket she’s carrying.
“You know, it’s times like these where I feel this- this pull, of sorts. To be… I guess, who I was before? I mean, you knew me as Rumi. As him, well, I doubt I would’ve let her cut in front of me in the first place. Yet… that’s not me. Or at least, I think that’s not me.”
They pause, not looking directly at the helmet.
“It’s sometimes hard to tell.”
With a shrug and a swift shake of her head, Elena pulls out a pastry from the basket.
“Do you think Peter will like these? They’ve got these sort of chocolate dots on them that reminded me of lizard eyes. I thought he would find them cute.”
“Elena!” A muffled voice calls. “I’m home!”
Their eyes immediately light up, and they rush out of the hallway.
“Afternoon, Thanatos!” Peter stops briefly in his sprint down the hallway to jump up and down excitedly in front of the helmet.
“Sorry, can’t talk long, Mrs. Lizard’s laid eggs! Eggs!”
There’s an enormous grin on his face, wrinkling his eyes behind his glasses.
“I’m going to be a grandfather! And wherever you are, you can be the uncle! Or… great uncle. Not sure. Anyway, bye!”
And with that, Peter is off sprinting down the hall again.
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Thanny.”
Elena presses a soft kiss to where the cheek would be on the helmet.
“I have a very special night planned for Peter. I wonder if you’ve found love where you are. Perhaps a nice calculator?”
She chuckles slightly.
“Oh, I’m having you on. Well, for what it’s worth, I love you. Not in the romantic sense, but I do. And Peter does too. So, out there somewhere, you are loved.”
“Now,” they wink, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find my husband.”
“Oh, wow.”
Peter mutters under his breath, looking dishevelled with lipstick stains all across his face and neck.
He walks right past the helmet, glasses crooked and eyes hazy.
“Wow.”
Elena and Peter dance down the hall, hands intertwined, music drifting through the house via magical means. Their faces are flushed. Whether from exertion, attraction to each other, or intoxication, it’s hard to tell.
Peter spins Elena around, tipping her back and catching her at the waist. They both giggle as he pulls her back upright and their noses bump together.
“I love this song.” Elena smiles, swaying back and forth in Peter’s arms.
“Thanatos, have you heard this song?” Peter tilts his head to look at the helmet.
“He can’t answer you, darling.”
“I know. He doesn’t need to.” Peter gently lets go of Elena, even the removal of his touch done with such reverence and care. He picks up the helmet and starts to dance with it.
Elena doesn’t seem bothered by the change of partners, instead leaning against the wall and watching with a warmth in her eyes.
“Do you think Thanatos knows how to dance?” Peter asks as he twirls around with the helmet.
“Absolutely not.” Elena laughs. “Maybe we could have taught him. Certainly against his will, but we could have.”
Peter hands the helmet over to Elena, and she starts to dance with it instead.
“Thanny,” they say as they step back and forth with the helmet, “I doubt you are the type for a slow dance. Maybe whisking around the dance floor to something up tempo would be more your style.”
“Or heavy metal.” Peter suggests with a giggle.
“I’m sure after a few drinks I could get you to dance to anything. I’m very convincing when I want to be.”
“That’s why the rug in our bedroom is mint instead of forest green.” Peter adds.
“And it goes so much better with the curtains, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” Peter admits, still smiling widely.
“Hi Thanatos.” Peter leans back against the wall opposite the helmet.
He’s noticeably aged now, looking a decent way into his thirties, smile lines starting to etch into his skin. He’s put on weight, large scars faded more than in the previous memories, and seems overall healthier and happier.
“I, um, ran into one of my brothers at the market today.”
Peter pauses and frowns, idly pulling a loose thread from his bag.
“My oldest brother. He recognised me. Said that looks-wise I had barely changed, but he couldn’t believe what he’d heard about me. That I helped kill the Gods…”
He looks away bashfully. “I’m surprised he found out it was us who did it… I guess stories travel.”
“But he, uh… Well he stood there and talked to me in the market. Really really emphasised that he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. I don’t blame him. I wasn’t really good at anything before I met you. But for the first time in my life, he seemed interested in me. Proud, even.”
Peter sighs, staring at his shoes. “It was the longest conversation I’ve had with anyone in my family for years. I used to send them letters after I left home, but nobody wrote back. He never ever saw anything in me for my whole life, and then there he was. Talking to me like I was somebody worth talking to. It was something I could only have dreamed of…”
He then looks up, into the helmet right where the eyes would be. “And it was awful. The whole time I just wanted to run away and go home. He… he wasn’t interested in me . He just wanted to hear about what I had done. And I- I get it. I’m not interesting to most people. But- you and Elena, you always believed in me . Not the things I’d done, or what I could do, but me. As a person. And you guys believing in me, telling me I’m interesting… Well, it made me start to believe it myself. Then here I was, standing in front of him, feeling just like I did before I met you.”
“So, I thought about what you would advise me to do in that situation. I imagined you saying follow your heart, Peter. You need not waste your time on those who will never appreciate your worth . And I… told him I had to go and just walked away.”
“I’m a little worried that I was too rude, but I mostly feel good. Younger me would’ve just stood there and let him talk to me like that, let him make me feel like nothing. Younger me would think I deserved to feel like that. So, thank you.”
Peter blushes a little. “I mean- I know you didn’t actually give me the advice. Obviously. But, just… Thank you. For everything.”
“Oh, Thanny. We’re really in it now.” Elena laments as she dramatically leans over the table which the helmet sits upon.
They’ve also changed with the years, wrinkles starting to appear around their eyes and mouth, cheeks less rounded.
“The town’s hairdresser has been sick for quite a while, and my hair was becoming quite the mess.”
There’s also one glaring new difference.
“I told Peter I could just shift to get it to a more manageable length while we waited, but he insisted he could cut it for me. And… well…”
Elena’s white hair fell around her ears in an entirely unflattering bowl cut.
“I love him so, I really do, but that man only knows one haircut.”
She leans in closer to the helmet, nose almost pressed to it, and whispers, “It’s so ugly, Thanatos. I hate it. I can’t tell him I hate it, because he tried so hard, but I HATE it. It’s adorable on him, but not on me! It doesn’t suit me at all!”
They pull away from the helmet now, hiding their face in their hands.
“What do I do? Do I tell the truth? Why am I even asking you, you don’t have hair!”
She groans, and then removes her hands from her face to reveal a steeled expression. “Honesty is the best policy. But there’s one policy even better, and that’s not hurting the feelings of the love of your life who so happens to be a terrible hairdresser. I am going to keep up the lie, grow it out, and Peter - bless his beautiful soul - is never going to be allowed within five metres of my head with scissors again.”
“Y’know, Thanatos.” Peter mentions one day as he’s walking down the hall. “Maybe when I finish my rock collection I’ll get into hairdressing. Elena really seemed to like what I did for her.”
He thinks on this for a second. “Or... maybe not. I don’t really want to cut anyone else’s hair. It wasn’t that fun itself, I just liked seeing her happy.”
“What if we put them in the helmet?” Elena, hair now grown out of the bowl cut and falling around her shoulders, says as she carries a bundle of flowers into the hallway.
“ In the helmet? Like, we use it as a vase?” Peter asks.
“Hmm. Well, when you phrase it like that it does sound a little strange.” They turn to face the helmet. “Thanny, would it be disrespectful to use you as a vase?”
There is no response.
“Not just any vase.” Peter adds. “You would be holding the prettiest spring flowers from our garden. Maybe the second prettiest thing in the house.”
Elena tilts their head curiously. “What’s the prettiest thing in the house?”
Peter grins at her. “Guess.”
“The painting of Thanatos? Or… the crystals in the living room?”
“No, silly. You .”
A warm blush dusts the grey of Elena’s skin. “Oh, Peter! You’re too sweet. You know I would have said you were the prettiest thing, but you’re not a thing .”
Peter’s face drops. “I wasn’t calling you a thing! Oh, oh no, I-”
“I know you weren’t, darling.” They lean over and give Peter a quick kiss. “You’re such a sweetheart.”
It’s Peter’s turn to blush now, a simple kiss still spreading a lovesick smile across his face after years spent with Elena.
“Maybe we could split the flowers and put them into two smaller vases either side of Thanatos’ helmet.” Elena suggests. “What do you think?”
“I think that sounds perfect.”
“Peter! Come here!” Elena yells, and Peter comes running into the hallway.
“What is it, babe?” He pants as he stumbles towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he catches his breath.
“I just realised, it’s twenty five years since we slayed the Gods this year, right?”
“I think so.” Peter nods. “Wasn’t the mayor talking to us about planning some celebration?”
“Peter, that means it’s twenty five years since we met Thanatos.”
Peter’s eyes widen, “Oh my gosh.”
“Yeah.”
“It feels like there’s no way it could have been that long, but at the same time it feels like it’s been a lifetime since I saw him.” Peter mumbles, pacing closer to the helmet. “How do you think he’s doing, wherever he is?”
Elena walks up beside him and wraps their arm around his shoulders. “I’m sure wherever he is, he’s kicking ass and living his best life.”
Peter hums an acknowledgement, leaning his head on Elena’s shoulder. “I think you’re right.”
Elena, with deeper wrinkles than before, sets a cake down on the table next to Thanatos’ helmet. It’s covered in chocolate icing, with strawberries placed around the border. “Happy Birthday My Love” is piped on in neat, cursive white writing, right above a candle moulded to look like the number 50.
“I reckon I did a pretty good job this year, Thanny.” Elena whispers as her hands start to glow a golden colour. “I hope he likes it. Fifty is a big deal.”
They reach down and touch the tip of the candle, and with a magical spark it sets aflame.
The golden glow on her hands dissipates, and she picks the cake back up again.
“Where’s my birthday boy?” She calls out with a grin as she walks down the hall.
“Ow ow ow ow ow ow-” Peter mumbles as he stumbles down the hallway. “ELENA!”
A green lizard sits atop Peter’s head, blinking nonchalantly. A decent amount of his brown hair has turned grey.
“Lizard The Third won’t let- ow- go of my hair!”
The lizard seems unbothered as it licks its eyeball.
“Bad boy! Bad! Your grandfather never acted like this!” Peter’s voice trails off as he walks away.
“Hi, Thanny.” Elena whispers softly, padding out into the dark hall. There’s a gentle click of a door closing.
“I know it’s late. I’ll do my best not to wake Peter up, but I couldn’t sleep.”
The hall is illuminated only by what little moonlight peeks through the gaps in the curtain. It glints off something shiny in her hands.
“It’s been a long time since you left, but it’s never gotten easier. I know- well, I don’t know that you’re still alive, but I doubt the mighty Thanatos could go down so easily.” They chuckle quietly.
“You didn’t die, but I still feel like I’m mourning you. I mean, we didn’t even know each other for that long in the scheme of things. But that time I spent with you, it meant so much to me. I couldn’t begin to describe it.”
They lean back against the opposite wall to the helmet and slide down until they are sitting on the floor.
“Our time travelling and slaying those Gods, that’s what made me become who I am today. Who I am in general. While it was largely Peter who helped, it was you too, Thanatos. I miss you more than I could say.”
They raise what they are holding, and it catches the moonlight to reveal a small harp of sorts.
“I know you can’t hear me, and that’s okay. But, wherever you are, this is for you.”
Elena runs her hands over the strings, and starts to play a tranquil melody. It’s gentle and peaceful, but with a melancholic and nostalgic undertone that haunts the song. The sound is beautifully chilling, resonating deep within the hearts of whoever hears it.
If anyone hears it.
Peter walks down the hall, a confused expression on his face.
“Where did I put my paintbrush?”
He crouches to look under the table, wincing as his knees pop as he stands back up.
“Elena, my love!” He yells out.
“Yes, darling?” A muffled voice replies.
“Have you seen my paintbrush anywhere?”
“You left it on the kitchen table!”
Peter frowns. “I was just there…” He mumbles, then shakes his head.
“Thank you!” He shouts in response, walking out towards the kitchen.
There’s the sound of the front door opening.
“Love, I’m home!” Elena’s voice calls out from somewhere in the distance.
A couple of lizards skitter into the house.
“Elena! Let me see it!” Peter walks out from the bedroom into the hallway as fast as he can. That’s getting less and less fast lately, but his excitement is still palpable.
Elena walks into the hall from the other end, using a cane. It’s painted a beautiful rose gold, the handle intricately carved from gold to look like a fox with a celestial symbol on its forehead, and sunstone embedded where the eyes would be.
“What do you think?” She asks, sounding almost shy, twirling the cane back and forth to let Peter see it in all its glory.
Peter meets her in the middle of the hall, in front of the helmet, and gently runs a finger over the fox on the handle.
“It’s gorgeous. It suits you perfectly.”
The two of them stand in silence for a moment, communicating something through their eyes. Peter leans in and kisses Elena, who raises the hand not on their cane to cup his cheek.
Elena pulls away just enough to say “I love you”, lips still brushing against Peter’s.
“I love you more.” Peter whispers back.
“Oh. Oh, you do not want to start that.” Elena feigns admonition as she pulls her face back so Peter can see her properly, a look of mischief in her eyes.
“And why is that?” Peter’s wrinkles deepen as he is unable to keep a grin off of his face.
“Because I, in fact, love you more.”
“That can’t be right.”
“How so?”
“I love you more.”
A lizard skitters past, Elena lifting one of her feet in surprise as it darts between them.
“Well,” she says between soft laughs, “nine out of ten lizards agree that I love you more.”
“Are you sure you didn’t sway the vote?” Peter teases.
“How would I have done that?”
“You’re so charming and pretty, how could anyone say no to you?” Peter reaches over and tucks a strand of Elena’s hair behind their ear.
“So,” Elena says, blushing, “you wouldn’t say no to me loving you more?”
“... Apart from that. I definitely love you more.”
They both erupt into laughter, leaning against each other.
Elena stands in the hall, humming a tune to themself as they polish the helmet.
“Elena! Elena Elena Elena!” Peter’s excited voice calls out.
Just the sound of his voice sparks a smile on Elena’s face as she gently places the helmet back down on the table.
“Peter?” They call back.
Peter appears in the hall, sweaty and with a glint in his eyes. “Elena!”
“What is it, darling?” She asks as he walks up to her and plants a kiss on her cheek.
“Look what I found!” He holds out his hands, in which sits a chunk of pink mineral. “Pink marble! This was the last type of rock I wanted for my collection. I have every single type of rock in the region now.”
Elena’s smile, matching Peter’s energy, slowly drops into a look of concern. “Peter…”
“Yeah? What’s wrong?”
“You found that exact same rock two weeks ago. You already completed your collection.”
Peter’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What?”
“Darling, do you not remember?”
“Are… are you pranking me?” Peter rubs his thumb back and forth over the rock. “It’s not funny.”
“I promise you,” Elena cups Peter’s hands in their own, “I am telling the truth.”
“Will you… Will you come with me? I want to look at the rocks, I want to see for myself.” Peter’s voice sounds suddenly small.
“Of course.” Elena presses a kiss to his forehead, letting go with one hand to grab her cane.
Hand in hand, rock pressed between their palms, they walk off down the hallway.
Peter is walking down the hall, when he suddenly stops.
He narrows his eyes at the helmet sitting on the table and picks it up.
He turns it around in his hands, a confused expression on his face.
“Where’s Thanatos? Why is his helmet here?”
Peter looks up from the helmet and around the hall, seemingly looking for some sort of answer.
“Where…” He starts to mutter something else, but trails off.
He places the helmet back on the table and walks away.
Elena has been sitting in this chair for nearly an hour. They had dragged it into the hall and sat in silence facing the helmet.
“What do I do, Thanny?” When she eventually breaks the silence with a whisper, her voice cracks with tears.
There is, of course, no response.
“The clerics say there’s nothing they can do. They can ease the symptoms a little bit, but there’s no cure for growing old. Not for mortals.”
Silence again.
“I don’t know how long he has left. It’s been getting worse. There’s so much he doesn’t remember.”
Outside, the wind howls out a shrill cry.
“I… I can’t…”
The wallpaper in the hallway has faded from the years of sun that have filtered through the windows.
“I can’t lose him again.” Tears slip from Elena’s eyes, streaking their cheeks.
She wipes at her face, but the tears keep on falling. It’s a futile effort.
“What do I do ?”
They grab their cane from where it sits leaning against the chair and shakily rise to their feet.
“Why did you leave, Thanatos? It would be easier if you were still here.”
Slowly, they approach the helmet.
“It’s so ironic. I love Peter because he is everything he is. But if he was just a little less good, less honest, less caring, maybe we could’ve been Gods and never had to worry about dying.”
Elena’s face contorts in pain.
“It’s not fair. This is what he gets for being good? For making me good? I didn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve this.”
There is no response.
“Maybe it’s not too late. We have some ludite. I could take more from those in town.”
Elena starts to rise in stature.
“How much would I need? I could make people give it over. I could take it by force, if I had to.”
The wrinkles in her skin start to smooth out.
“Peter is good. And now he’s sick. I don’t have to be good. I would do it for him.”
Iridescent gemstone starts to sprout from atop their head.
“I could make him immortal. I could make sure that he was happy forever. That we were happy forever.”
Up in the sky, a cloud shifts. Moonlight shines through the window, and illuminates the helmet. Elena looks into her reflection in the polished metal.
Rumi looks back.
Elena’s eyes widen in horror and they stumble backwards, shrinking and morphing back into their true form as they do so. Their knuckles whiten as they grip their cane, and their other hand clasps over their mouth as they sob.
“What am I doing? Thanny, what am I doing?”
“Are you alright, darling?” Elena asks softly.
“We’re going outside?” Peter sounds distant.
“Yes. We’re going to watch the sunset like you wanted to. Do you still want to?”
Elena, one arm around Peter’s shoulder, helps him down the hallway.
“I want to watch the sunset with Elena.” Peter mumbles.
“I want to watch the sunset with you, too.” She smiles at him, the same warmth and adoration in her eyes that she had over sixty years ago.
The house is unusually quiet.
It gets quiet, but never this quiet.
It’s a silence that hangs thick in the air, dripping down the walls and soaking the floorboards.
Elena walks down the hall. Eyes red and puffy.
Their shoes should be clicking loudly against the wooden floor, but everything sounds muffled.
“We’re burying him in the garden.”
Her voice doesn’t sound right. It doesn’t feel right.
“The townspeople know to bury me next to him when I go.”
Nothing feels right.
“I love you, Thanatos.”
But the feeling won’t last forever.
“I think one day of this life was better than an eternity of Godhood.”
Nothing really lasts forever.
“I hope one day we get to see you again.”
Except, maybe…
One day Elena walks past the helmet and greets Thanatos for the last time.
Whoever lived in this cottage is long gone, but their love isn’t. It permeates the air, permeates time itself.
You can’t know for sure, but you feel it.
And maybe, somewhere across time and space, a single drop of oil rolls down the cheek of a helmetless warforged as he closes the back cover of a book.