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The Lucky Ones

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Beau wasn’t sure if she was more angry or upset. Sure, she had never gotten along well with Molly, but they had come to the understanding that they were more like siblings than anything, and that they were both protective of the one the other was trying to get into the pants of. Actually, she of Molly as that childhood friend that you know so well that you could rip into and not have to worry about the consequences. Thinking of Molly as a brother was weird since she felt that Caleb was her brother in all but blood, and Molly was trying to get into the wizards pants.

She had taken temporary custody of both Jester’s bag and Nott’s bottomless flask, not letting anyone get the flask, as she felt they all needed to be sober now. Drowning their sorrows in booze may have been something that even she wanted to do, but they needed to be level headed from here on out.

She saw how both Keg and Caleb had become unkempt, their facial hair growing out quickly probably a good thing as they kept heading into the frigid north. It honestly felt like everything had fallen apart since they left Hupperdook. No Kiri, no Jester, no Fjord, no Yasha, barely half of their horses, and now no Molly. They might as well have lost Caleb as well, since he had barely spoken a word since the battle. Nott was fussing over Caleb, distrusting Keg, and bugging Beau for her flask back, even though both she and Beau knew she could just steal back.

She never tried.

Beau didn’t know what to do. Caleb was the most charming left of them, but he wasn’t even talking to Nott. Since Molly died, all he had said was, ‘We bring him with. We find what we need, and Jester will fix him.’

Beau wasn’t so sure, but she trusted him. She remembered that Jester mentioned she could bring them back from the dead, back in the swamp, but that it was expensive. Three hundred gold, or something. Hopefully this Mardun lady would be able to help them with that.

That’s all they could do; hope.


Nott worried both her kids seemed broken at this point. How could she fix this? She couldn’t really do much; all she could do was make sure Caleb was eating, and Beau was distracted. Keg wasn’t her problem.

She missed Jester, and Kiri, and Yasha. Hell, she even missed Fjord. And she missed Molly. Sure, she didn’t like him, but she didn’t hate him either. He was a wise weirdo, he was someone she could drink with, and he was shiny.

Nott sat with Frumpkin and Jester;s journal. She wished that Yasha had left her notebook with them as well. She wanted to see all the flowers and other things that the tall woman has collected. She wondered if Yasha had ever seen an owl. She probably had, Yasha had a tendency for wandering around in the dark. She would have seen an owl.


Caleb was numb. He didn’t want to think, yet his brain wouldn’t shut off. He had told them all that they were going to bring Molly’s body with them, no choice. He was the one riding with the dead body of their friend.

Maybe he should have run away. Molly probably wouldn’t have died if he were gone. He wondered if he could exchange his life for Molly’s. After all, the tiefling deserved to live more than he did.

Nott made sure he ate, and Beau made sure he slept. Keg apologised so many times that he just wanted to tell her to shut up. He never did though.

One of the things Caleb thought about was how the others would react. Jester and Molly were close, they were two of a kind, birds of a feather. She would cry, that was for sure. She would jump at the chance to bring him back, that’s why he refused to leave him there. He deserved a second - or was it third? - chance.

Fjord would be upset, he thought. They might not have been close, but they were also roommates, and that had to establish some sort of bond, of trust. Right?

And Yasha. Caleb really didn’t want to think of how Yasha would react. She was his first friend in this group, but she had known Molly the longest. Would she be angry at them for not protecting him? He didn’t think he could take that. Him or Nott or Beau.

Would she cry? Caleb liked to think that would be the most likely option. Not that he wanted Yasha to cry, but he’d rather she did that than get angry at them.

Maybe she’d be as nonchalant as she and Molly always were when she left and came back. That was Caleb’s least favourite outcome. He’d rather Yasha get angry at them than brush it off.

Another thing he thought about was what he’d give up for the spell. Every spell had a cost, and he knew that this one would require a sacrifice.

Would he give up a skill? A memory? One of his books? The necklace? Frumpkin? It had to be something with a lot of worth, but not just monetary worth. Sentimental worth was so much better. But he didn’t have many skills in the first place, and his memories were what made him who he was, no matter how painful they were. His books were all he had, and the necklace was all that was keeping him hidden. And Frumpkin… Giving up Frumpkin felt wrong.

But that was the point, wasn’t? The harder the thing was to give up, the better the spell would work.

That’s when he decided that he’d give up the necklace. He didn’t need to hide anymore.

The final thing Caleb thought about was if Molly could even come back again. A person could only be brought back once, as far as he knew. And Molly had already died before, hadn’t he? He’d admit to not knowing much about how bringing the dead back worked.

What if Molly came back but didn’t know who he was again? What if he came back, but it was Lucien who came back? What if he didn’t come back at all?

In the end, Caleb didn’t know what to think.