"Beacon"- Gurjin
They see it even beneath the thick canopy of the Great Smerth- the blue glow slicing through the sky, then spreading to their own cookfire. Naia’s eyes flash in the strange light as Gurjin turns to her, her wary face echoing his own.
“What’s happening?” she asks, a hand on the hilt of her knife, as though she expects a Skeksis to leap from the flames. In fairness, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing they’ve seen since this all began. Still, he inches closer, curious.
“I don’t know. Maybe we just burned the wrong pla-” he cuts off, not because of how foolish a possibility that had been, but because he hears….something. Something building beyond the normal crackling and spitting of the fire. Voices, whispering over one another in an indiscernible hiss, building louder and louder. He fears he’s imagining it until he catches Naia’s face again- a picture of shock- and then-
Rian.
A wave of relief crashes over him. Rian is alive. Their orders to spread their message to the opposite corners of Thra had come from Mother Aughra herself, but that hadn’t made breaking his promise to follow his friend wherever he had to go any easier. He knows that he isn’t the greatest warrior to ever live- hardly comparable to Captain Ordon, though all his renowned skill had not saved him in the end. Perhaps not even a match for his own sister. He doesn’t know yet what trials Rian has faced since they parted, nor whether he could have been of any help, but he would never have been able to forgive himself if something horrible had befallen him that he could have perhaps prevented.
But it hasn’t. Not yet.
He can see their faces now, barely discernible within the flames- Brea’s too, and an older Vapra who can only be her sister- and takes a deep breath. He feels Naia’s familiar presence as she sits beside him, and bursts his way into the magical conversation the only way he knows how.
“Bold Gurjin is here too, in case you were wondering!”
They had known the call would come. And he plans to be the first one back to Rian’s side.