Chapter 305: Death
The spring of the new year seemed not particularly warm.
Perhaps due to overexertion or an illness, Bard suddenly collapsed.
Bain hurriedly gave him milk and healing potions, but they had little effect. He spent the entire day in bed. When he awoke the next day, he ate only very little.
Though his condition was concerning, fortunately, after waking, Bard returned to his former state, living peacefully and regularly.
During these days, Levi frequently visited this place.
Many times, when he entered the house, he would see Bard picking up his pen, seemingly wanting to write something, but each time ultimately appearing to write nothing.
"Have an apple?"
On this not-so-pleasant spring day, Levi produced a golden apple, attempting to do something.
Faced with Levi's reasonless, sudden gift, Bard simply smiled.
He didn't take the apple.
"You know, I'm not sick, nor injured. It's just... perhaps I simply need to rest a bit more."
As if sensing something, Bard suddenly sighed, "An era is coming to an end, Levi."
"I can feel it. I'm standing at both an endpoint and a starting point."
"It's my great honor to witness all this, to experience it all personally."
Across from Bard, Levi opened his mouth, unable to speak for a long time.
Knock knock knock.
The door knocked.
It was Bain arriving with Bran.
Today, unusually free, father and son came to spend a leisurely afternoon tea time with Bard.
As always, Bain sat at the table's side, quietly accompanying them.
Little Bran was lively as ever.
He hugged his grandfather Bard, spoke a few words with him, greeted Levi, had his head patted twice, then went out to play.
Everything seemed the same as always, without the slightest change.
When the quiet, leisurely afternoon passed, Bain also departed with Bran.
Bard stood at the doorway, watching their backs, and displayed a smile.
That smile contained tenderness, joy, pride... and also relief.
Returning to the table, Bard leaned back in his chair, slowly saying, "We accomplished it, Levi."
"What?" Levi raised his head.
"Decades ago, you once said, if everyone valued their homeland over gold and power, this world would be far more beautiful."
"Has it become as you wished?"
After a brief silence, Levi slowly nodded.
Bard smiled once more. Looking at the empty cup before him, he said, "I feel... somewhat thirsty. Could you pour me a cup of tea? All this time I've poured for you. Might I be a bit selfish and experience the lord's tea service?"
"Of course. Why not?"
Levi turned, taking the already-boiled kettle from atop the fireplace, and steeped fresh tea.
"I really don't wish to bid you farewell."
In his chair, Bard watched the busy back figure, muttering this sentence.
He slowly closed his eyes, seemingly resting.
Whoosh whoosh.
Soft water-pouring sounds rang out. The teacup gradually filled, wisps of steam rising.
The old man didn't open his eyes again.
Levi set the teapot by the table, sitting back in his chair across the way, gazing out the window, remaining motionless for a long time.
Like a statue.
The scenery before him became somewhat blurred.
Snap!
A string pulled, a small gift box opened.
A candy bounced out from within.
Time seemed to return to those years just after the Battle of Five Armies ended.
When Dale was still being rebuilt, a small child running by the riverside gave Levi a little gift he'd made himself.
Young Bard explained beside him, "This is a Lake-town specialty small toy. You just pull the string and it opens both the packaging and the box inside directly."
"Usually this type of toy contains some small candies inside, or perhaps other commemorative small objects."
"From my experience, listening to the sound, the one you're holding should contain..."
"Stop!" Levi cut him off.
"Saying it ruins the surprise. Let me unwrap it myself."
"Alright." Bard then appeared innocent.
He never imagined this small box would remain in Levi's pack for decades.
"Though people like you who stay so calm are truly rare."
Then, after stopping Bard's spoiling of the gift box's surprise, Levi put the box away, saying, "If everyone valued their homeland over gold and power, this world would be far more beautiful."
Clearly, Bard strongly agreed with this.
He remembered it for decades.
In 2977, Bard the Bowman, deputy lord of Dale and the Anduin valley, passed away.
During his tenure, the territory developed rapidly, prosperously, and peacefully.
"Uncle Levi!"
Year's end—simultaneously the final day of that year, when snow covered rooftops, in this same house at this same table, Bain saw Levi once again.
"I'll steep tea."
He quickly rose, fearing that a moment's delay would lose this uncle.
"You've worked hard this time."
Levi sipped his tea, offering encouragement to Bain.
Following Bard's death, through collective popular vote and selection by valley townspeople, Bain, as expected, took over Bard's authority, becoming the second deputy lord.
Though this title seemed somewhat ordinary, many people already regarded it as a position similar to Gondor's Steward, viewing it with great importance.
The only difference was that one had a king, while the other didn't.
"It's all my duty."
Bain responded to Levi's words, momentarily somewhat dazed.
Since his father's death, this uncle hadn't visited Dale again. Now, being able to see him was quite rare.
This house remained as before, unchanged in the slightest.
Levi sat in the chair by the window. Bain still sat at the table's side.
And the chair across from Levi... remained empty.
"Father, I brought some pastries."
In the quiet atmosphere, the door suddenly opened as little Bran entered, carrying some newly purchased pastries, piling them on the table.
"Good lad, getting stronger," Bain ruffled the boy's hair, leaving it disheveled.
Bran, his large eyes bright and sparkling, somewhat helplessly shook his head, about to sit in that empty chair across from Levi.
But Bain suddenly pulled him back.
He slowly shook his head to the somewhat bewildered Bran.
Though unsure why, Bran chose to obey, moving a small chair from the side, sitting beside Bain instead.
"Don't worry about it."
Levi smiled, also patting Bran's head.
The departed have departed. Since one era had passed, let it pass. People must always move forward.
This winter grew increasingly cold.
When leaving the house, passing through Lake-town once more, Levi spotted a relatively familiar hunched figure at the town hall.
Alfrid.
He was sitting blankly on the steps beside a house, simply watching the now-frozen lake waters, seemingly lost in thought.
Looking at this silent old man, Levi also froze in contemplation.
He really had changed.
If such a thing had happened in the past, this fellow would surely have run to crowded places, wailing loudly, shouting things like "my lord" in his mouth, wanting people to know how emotionally excited he was.
But now he simply sat alone in a familiar, secluded corner, unwilling to be seen by anyone.
Levi didn't disturb him; he simply turned and left silently.
When moving away from that familiar wooden cottage, he suddenly stopped, taking a deep breath, then slowly exhaling.
Just closing his eyes, quietly waiting for another year to arrive.