𝘏 𝘌 𝘓 𝘓 ' 𝘚 𝘎 𝘈 𝘛 𝘌 «𝔡𝔲𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔰»

●︎ 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚

James had never felt the same level of connection with Tarthus as he once had with Rizzellia. That wasn't to suggest that James resented Tarthus in any way--no, quite the contrary. James held the utmost respect and deep admiration for the older goblin. He was a natural born leader, a skilled fighter, an intellectual, and a dear friend. He was crafty and confident. When Tarthus was set on something, he would get what he wanted. He was unchallenged like that--and every guild in the south knew that. 

But he wasn't Rizzellia. 

No matter the amount of hours spent together formulating plans, budgets, or contracts for the guild, there was never the same deep connection between the human and goblin as there was with James and Tarthus' late wife. The wizard and the leader were close...but things were never the same when James came back alone from that damned well. 

Rizzellia was a force of nature. Everyone could agree with that. And more than once James had confided in a guild member saying that he thought of Rizzellia as his own sister. James was an only child and, as far as anyone in the guild knew, his connection with his family was all but absent. No one knew if that was what he wanted or not, but James took it upon himself to not burden the weight of his familial matters with friends and fellow members. And though he could not truly understand what a real relationship with a sibling was like given he had none, James liked to think Rizzellia was the closest thing to a sister the Maker had ever granted him. She was kind to him save for when she actively worked to ruffle his feathers because "it's funny to see humans mad" (her words), and he confided in her his worries and dreams. Sure, a long time ago they were assigned to the same squad by a previous leader, but it worked out in the end. Rizzellia was a dear friend and James felt blessed to be able to hold someone so dearly in his heart. He didn't have many friends, but he was thankful for the ones he had. 

And Tarthus was the husband of his best friend. He was headstrong but kind-hearted, and the goblins matched each other perfectly. Tarthus at times was intimidating to James. After all, Tarthus was his boss. Dread the day James would do anything to upset the goblin he worked for. But Tarthus also became his friend and over time the two became very close. 

And then Rizzellia died. 

James blamed himself. He was sure Tarthus blamed him too. He would never forget the day he returned to the Vagabonds, the look of terror and agony in his friend's eyes. The words of an angry, grieving husband and father would haunt James Wright until his final breath. 

For months Tarthus avoided James, and the young human stewed in those many, many weeks in his sorrow and grief. He feared he had lost not one but two dear friends for his foolishness at that well, with one suffering firsthand and the other suffering in silence. Tarthus conducted his duties as a leader and father like any strong man would, but James could feel his anger like a blizzard threatening to tear apart every underground brick throughout the Vagabonds' base. 

When Tarthus finally, fully came to terms with what happened, he apologized to James. They cried. They comforted each other. And then they reaffirmed their friendship. But James always feared that Tarthus subconsciously resented him, if only just a bit. And James thought this for years. 

Through those years James watched the son of Tarthus grow into a starry-eyed, competent young boy. There were times James saw the boy's mother in him, like when Tarthuul would hum to himself while cleaning the barracks, or when he would smile to the seagulls and wave, or even when he would become irritated with how unruly his dark hair had grown. Tarthuul's heart was about three sizes too big for his body. He always was willing to help the guild members, even the ones who took advantage of a sweet boy with too much energy (hence when he would clean the barracks). 

James cared for the boy more than anyone in the guild. Maybe it was selfish, but he looked after Tarthuul almost as if he were his own. Not to intrude on Tarthus' role as a father, Maker forbid he do anything like that, but the role felt natural to him (almost as if what Rizzellia once told him was a glimpse into the future). When Tarthus was busy with planning, researching, or preparing for a job, James was there immediately to care for Tarthuul. And as years passed, James recognized that Tarthus was truly thankful for his help. In a way, Tarthuul had become a way to prove to Tarthus just how seriously Rizzellia's death effected him. Tarthus respected him and James respected him in return. Without knowing it, Tarthuul had mended the bond between the two men.

While it was true that Tarthus and James did not share the connection that James once had with Rizzellia, they had something different. Their connection was a promise--a promise that they would depend on each other as Rizzellia would want them to. 

"Are you worried for him?" James asked Tarthus on the day that Tarthuul packed his things, kissed his family farewell, and set a path on a dream to bring fame and gold to his family and guild. 

"Do you think he's not capable of fending for himself."

"No! No, of course not. But out there...it's not Port Mabari. It's not safe."

"He was going to learn that one way or another, James. It's natural for a young man to want to prove himself. I did the same for my father."

"Yes, but..." James didn't know what he really wanted to say. What did he want to say? He knew deep down that Tarthuul was more than prepared. Tarthuul was clever, skilled, but... "I suppose I just want to be certain that he will return."

At that, Tarthus turned to James and smiled. "My boy's heart is stuck in this city no matter how far away he goes." James thought of Dylte and little Rizz. "He'll come back."

And Tarthuul did.

But now...he was leaving again. 

And that same terrible cold feeling welled in Tarthus' and James' guts, the well looming like a crackling black cloud of lightning above their heads. 

The first few days Tarthus did not eat. He barely slept. The nightmares returned to James no matter how many times he tried to clear his mind in his meditations. Tarthuul decided to walk into the belly of the beast for even the smallest chance of finding his mother. Tarthuul was brave. Tarthus did not feel the same way.

When James sat with the goblin in his office in silence once again, he asked his friend how he was feeling. 

Eyes red, bags under his eyes, Tarthus responded, "I just want to know he's coming back. That's all."