The long road

Deathbelle’s Warlord found himself across the water, and on the Ashen Island. Death’s palace lay here, with all the comforts her pack, and himself, could build for her. It was almost getting into the embrace of night, and he knew his nocturnal little phoenix would be making her round soon.

He ducked through the entrance, chuffing softly at the door to her sleeping quarters. He stood there politely, respectfully, waiting to see if she was awake. If she would hear him and grant her entrance. He might be a pig-headed Warlord these days, but some things never changed.

He saw some touches of similarity in this palace that had been in the home they had grown. He could almost close his eyes, and remember the courtyards and trees of their youth. Of training sessions and play. Of secrets told, and their question for the future laid out before them. Who knew it would have led them here? To this place, and this time. Not Sirius, no. None of this was as he had imagined.