>>6311291Medivh
A Friend
“You shouldn't be here.” You heard a voice behind you and turned to look. “This is for the Royal Family only.”
An old man, a short Gardener stood there. He then recognised you and a surprise appeared on his wrinkly face.
“Apologies M'lord, I didn't know it was you.” He said.
“Don't worry about it, I was just wandering the Keep to spend some time.” You replied with a smile that seemed to ease the Gardener a bit. “Though my eyes caught this one here. Why isn't it taken care of while the rest of the graves are clean and tidy?”
“We have our orders not to tend that memorial.” The Gardener replied.
“Why? Who is this Medivh?” You asked.
“Apologies, but I shouldn't be the one telling you the story.”
“Indulge me, you take care of these graves, you know their stories.”
The old Gardener sighed deeply.
“Lord Medivh was a great mage and a friend of King Llane and Sir Anduin. I remember them when they were young boys, best of friends.” The Gardener started. “But Medivh in the end betrayed them, I do not know why or how. At the end of the day his friends had killed him.”
“A traitor, yet given a small stone here amongst the Kings and Queens?” You asked him. You didn't know of this Medivh, some local know mage perhaps?
“I do not know who placed it here.” He replied.
You looked at the stone. The writing on it had been carved there by someone who clearly wasn’t a mason.
“Not to tend it, yet whoever put it here ended up calling him a friend? Not many who would fit that bill don't you think?”
“You are right M'lord.” Gardener replied after a pause.
“Don't you think it should be then tended to?” You asked. “I can lend a hand.”
The Gardener paused and then nodded.
“His friends would have wanted that.” He said and memories from decades ago must have raced through his mind. The old Gardener lived again the days of Llane's, Anduin's and this Medivh's youth.
“I can start with the weeds.” You replied and smiled.
Traitor or not, this Medivh seemed to be a worthy man to have such friends. Somehow it made you think of yourself, or more accurately your father. Someone who is seen as the enemy or as the traitor, but who had friends, great friends who surrounded and helped him.
You hoped that when the time passes you, your family and friends would take care of your grave.
…
It was late evening and you had already taken a bath and retreated into your bedroom. The slow work to clean and tidy the memorial stone had been a calming experience, but that time had given you a lot to think as the old Gardener didn't speak that much.
Everything and more raced through your mind and you couldn't shake them off even if it had been nice to do some calm gardening.
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