"No! Flint, don't go! You can't leave without me! Fliiiiint!"

My voice echoes in my mind, repeating over and over like that funny sound you get in your head when you end up standing in a belltower at noon. How could he go? Oh Flint!

He's dead, I tell myself disbelievingly. Dead.

No, Flint can't die. He'd never go off adventuring on his own.

But despite how hard I try to convince myself, it's not working.

I blink back the tears that are still pouring down my face, though everyone else has long since fallen asleep. How can they sleep? How can they?

I curl myself tightly into a ball, wrapping around the pain in my heart, hoping it will stop. It doesn't, and I end up brushing my topknot across my wet eyelids, as for some reason the message has not quite gotten around to my eyes from my brain that I'm supposed to stop weeping.

Godshome is so dark now. So desolate, and lonely. It's worse now that Flint died. Flint has gone, and Fizban went with him. My two best friends in all the world gone, leaving me here, alone, behind them. Though I know that the others need me (they just can't keep out of trouble, and I'm always having to pull them out), it doesn't ease the pain.

I think of the days when Tanis and Flint and I used to travel together, how we met over a small misunderstanding with a bracelet of Flint's that had somehow fallen into my pocket. I thank Paladine that it did, or we'd never have met, never have known those happy days wandering around Abanasinia and anywhere else the whim took us.

And now my thoughts turn to Sturm, recently killed at the High Clerist's Tower. He died for a vision, to pull the Knighthood together I think, though I never quite understood that part. Sturm was a real good guy, and though he never acted anything but stern and honourable, he was one of my closest friends. Two companions dead already. How many more would die before the end?

...the dark path, but you have the courage to walk it. The deaths of some you love...Fizban's words echo in my mind, seeping past the agony.

I never really thought that any of us could die. I always just assumed that we would always be together, travelling and laughing, always there for each other. I miss those days so much. I wish I could just spin the world back around and around until time had reset itself to the days when we were all together.

I hurt so much. Sturm died almost a month back, but I still get a queer little ache in my heart when I think of him. And the ache in my heart for Flint is like what I imagine the void over the edge of the world looks like, if you sail and sail far enough, with all the water plunging down into an endless black hole, but it's never filled up. Does the hurting never leave you?

I think back to what it was like only a few days back. Then I was full of hope, and gladness that I was with my friends, and I was doing Something Important. Being such a small person, sometimes I need that feeling to keep me going. But what's the point anymore? Flint's dead. Sturm's dead. I don't want to lose any more of my friends. I don't want to feel hopeful anymore. I just want to curl up in some dark corner and die. No one really needs me.

I think the others are hurting bad too. I think they're losing hope, just like I am. We've given up so much for our side's victory in this damn war. Must we give up any more?

I start as Tanis stirs, and wakes. He sees me sitting curled up with Flint's helm beside me. "Tas," he says quietly. "You're still awake?"

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"You should sleep, you know. We can't have you lagging behind tomorrow."

"I can't sleep," I mumble.

"You're still grieving for Flint, aren't you?"

I nod again, those cursed tears starting in my eyes again.

Tanis sighed. "We all are, Tasslehoff. But he led a good life, and he's at peace now. There's not much we can do about it now. You'll see him again, someday, when you too leave this life for a new adventure."

"Tanis," I say, my voice small, "why do people have to die?"

He comes over and sits beside me, ruffling my topknot gently. "I don't know. No one knows. We just have to trust in the gods that there's a reason for it, that it's all part of some higher plan." He laughs now, almost bitterly. "Listen to me. I sound like some damn cleric! But in these dark days I need something to believe in."

"I still miss Flint."

"We always will. That's the problem with loving people."

Slowly, the pain in my chest is easing, and I uncurl myself from the fetal position I was lying in. "I don't know why, but I feel better now," I say softly. My tears are drying up. "I think I can sleep now. Thanks, Tanis."

As I gradually drift off, I hear Tanis humming quietly beneath his breath, an old, plaintive song from Qualinesti that tears at my heart. And I know at last that there is always hope, if you just trust in your friends.

Where is the hope that leads us on?

(It hides and runs from us, into the gloom)

Why must we keep going, when all else grows dark?

(There are no others left to hope)

Why must we be stronger than everyone else?

(There is no one else to be strong)

Where is the light that will guide us into winter's night?

(It bounds ahead of us, leaving us lost)

Where is the hope that rallies us onwards?

(It is buried in our hearts)

Why must we struggle alone?

(Because to fight evil is to fight alone)