Peek: The Taste of Victory is Not so Sweet

Lechula and Merrik stand in silence with Dergol, the three looking at a fresh tombstone. Very few things could still be considered fresh after several months, but the loss of a friend will always be a wound that never quite heals. Jayle was a good friend, and though Merrik and Lechula had hoped he would see the evil of the Maw before the end, Merrik at least was not surprised to hear his friend didn't lay down his arms, but rather his life.

It may be more accurate to say it was taken, but that's splitting hairs. All those who truly believed in the Maw were affected by what the Harbinger did, though only the most ardent paid the ultimate price for it. That Jayle perished in that attack only proved to Merrik that, if it wasn't the Harbinger, he would have forced Thedeim to take it instead.

Not exactly comforting, and so something he hasn't shared with his friends. Dergol was the most lost. He and Jayle grew up as friends. To lose him so suddenly hit the pale elf hard, especially with all the change in the wake of the destruction of the Maw. He feels aimless, a miner with no mine, a cook with no ingredients, and it shows plainly. He still carries his spear, but more out of habit than any desire to ever use it.

Merrik stands stoically, tears quietly falling. Dergol slumps, his own tears long since shed. Lechula weeps openly for the friend they all lost, too sorrowful to mind her beard and what her grief is doing to it.

"I still don't know what to say," admits Merrik, earning a small, hollow smile from Dergol.

"It's nice you're still trying, I guess."

"Are you feeling any better?"

"No. I just... I don't know what to do. I want to be angry at you guys, for talking to that other dungeon. I want to be angry at it for attacking. I even want to be angry at the Gr... at the Maw for inviting the attack." His hand clenches his spear for a moment, a fire burning in his eyes for a few brief seconds as Dergol continues. "I am mad at the Harbinger, for all of this. The attacks were all its idea." He anger fades, replaced once more with the hollow shell of their friend. "But even trying to take revenge on it isn't going to happen. It killed the Maw... what chance would I have? And then that other dungeon killed it. So I don't know what to do..."

"M-Maybe..." stammers Lechula through her tears, though Dergol shakes his head before she can really say anything.

"No... even if you guys didn't get captured, Jayle..." He pauses and takes a deep breath, trying to keep himself together. "My friend w-was doomed. The Harbinger would have... would have eventually attacked on its own. I-It was a mas-master chef... p-preparing a meal. I-If you two didn't... we all would have b-been appetizers..." Dergol shivers as he tries to hold himself together, but it's obvious he's already shattered.

Lechula moves forward and embraces him, their wails of sorrow mixing together, and even Merrik joins the hug, his own tears silently falling. He doesn't know how long it takes for everyone to calm down, but all three feel thin like delicate cookware, vulnerable to the slightest thing to shatter.

"I thought I lost you two, too..." mutters Dergol, the three still holding each other like they might fall apart if they release each other.

"We thought you wouldn't want to see us again, even if you survived," admits Merrik, earning a snort from the other elf.

"You guys're still my friends. I don't think I'd get through this without you both."

"We're still sorry it happened like this..." manages Lechula, her breathing still mostly under control, even though the signs of her sorrow are clear on her face and in her beard.

"Yeah..." sighs Dergol, dragging his eyes from the tombstone to his friends, and giving them a small fragile smile that soon turns into a thin smirk. "Heh... you're an ugly crier, Lechula. You should help clean her up, Merrik."

The mage smiles softly and nods. "I'll help her wring out her beard later."

Lechula looks confused, a hand idly moving to her beard, probably to fiddle with it as she so often does, only to be met with the wetness of tears and mucus. "Ugh!"

The laughter starts slow, bubbling up on its own, but soon descends into hysteria, the three holding together as their emotions try to stabilize. By the end, all three are still stifling giggles, all three still feel thin and worn... but all three feel like they're through the worst of it now. They each nod to the grave of their fallen friend, promising to never forget him.

Sorrow and joy are each vital ingredients in life, like bitter and sweet. Too much of one can ruin a dish, but a good balance makes a proper meal. And now they have found their balance together, hopefully they can have many better courses to come.

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Partially inspired by Jennifer Saldana, who wanted to see how Merrik and Lechula have been doing. I think we'll be seeing more of them eventually.