Jahaan dangled his fishing rod down into the depths of the wondrous Prifddinas waterfall. The waterfall was sky-blue and magical, tumbling down over the mountain and splashing into the lake below. The pool down there was so clear it perfectly reflected the brilliant white clouds above like an impeccable mirror image of the sky. The falls twinkled as sunlight caught the crystal walls of the surrounding buildings and flashed their brilliance into the lake.

The air tasted fresh on Jahaan's tongue, as nourishing as a glass of iced water. You could smell the purity of the atmosphere, of a little haven attuned with nature, living harmoniously around its elven neighbours.

The crashing cascade of the water was a low hum beneath him, a pleasant swish of waves lapping against the rocks. He heard the sound of children playing in the lake below, giggling and laughing in tune with the sweet chirping of birds.

Perched on his little wooden bridge, Jahaan took in the calming atmosphere with a contented sigh. This was the place he spent most of his days now, ever since the town council agreed to gift him a little house in the Meilyr district, a small token of appreciation for his services to Gielinor. It had been about three months since he was discharged from the hospital, and he hadn't left Prifddinas since. He didn't want to.

Jahaan worked part-time in the bait-and-tackle shop in the Meilyr district, and supplemented his income by fishing. They had strange fish in these waters, all making for a strange delicacy. It was an acquired taste at first, the urchins that he caught and cooked, but he slowly got used to them. Once he learned he could put them in soup - creating the best delicacy ever, hill still firmly there to die on - it was a different matter entirely. Lady Heledd had been kind enough to share the recipe with him.

Ozan settled down beside the bridge, still keeping a slight distance between himself and Jahaan. "Hey, Ariane's finished setting up the picnic if you wanna come join us?"

Ozan was adapting to life as a wight quicker than anticipated. The inability to eat grated on him the most, and his appearance would occasionally frighten the elven children. It took awhile to convince the locals he wasn't a zombie. Said locals referred to him as 'marwwr', not really a term of endearment but a factual statement that, yes, he was a deadman. Ozan got used to it though, taking it in good humour.

He and Ariane didn't exactly want to relocate to Prifddinas, but ended up doing so anyway. Unfortunately, west of the River Lum, those of the undead variety weren't particularly welcome in towns and cities. At least in Prifddinas, Ozan had Jahaan, the town elders, and even Seren to vouch for him. As for Ariane, thanks to teleportation, it was easy to commute to the Wizards' Tower for work. There, she and a handful of other wizards were starting to look into a cure for Ozan's affliction, but hopes weren't high as of yet.

Coal wasn't a big fan of Prifddinas once he figured out that crystal was too tough to eat, and most of the structures and tools in the city were made out of such a material.

Nudging closer to Jahaan, but never too close, Ozan motioned with his head to the female fisherman perched on the rock opposite Jahaan, the one with brunette bangs who's eyes kept flicking in the World Guardian's direction.

"Psst," Ozan whispered with a mischievous smirk. "I think she's checking you out."

Jahaan looked over at the elf in question, but she quickly glanced away with a sheepish smile.

Turning back to Ozan, Jahaan grinned and said, "Drop dead Ozan."

"Already did, Jahaan."

"Encore."

Then there was a laugh, but it wasn't Jahaan's or Ozan's, and it echoed throughout Jahaan's mind. He shook his head to clear it.

This had happened before, many times. Jahaan had a theory, but he shared it with no-one. After all, a pleasant lie was far better than an unpleasant truth.

What he didn't know was, some of those around him had the exact same theory.

There were differences he noticed ever since he woke up inside that Prifddinas hospital bed. He could sense auras around people, dark shadows that lurked around their being. Sometimes the world had slightly muted colours, like he was unconsciously slipping into the Shadow Realm, something he never intended to do again.

But the main difference he noticed was the voice inside his head, a new voice that was certainly not his own.

It was there during the menial and mundane, there during the trials and tribulations. It talked to him, and talked AT him. Reassuring occasionally, mocking often, but not necessarily at his expense. It commented on things, laughed at other people's jokes.

Sometimes it even sang.

At first it disturbed him, but as he became more and more used to its presence, it stopped bothering him so much. Sometimes, when it was quiet, Jahaan missed it.

But late at night, when he tried to go to sleep, the familiar laugh would always return...

...and when no-one was around…

...Jahaan would laugh back.


As Of Gods and Men is a reimagining, retelling and reworking of the Sixth Age, a LOT of dialogue/characters/plotlines/etc. are pulled right from the game itself, and this belongs to Jagex.