S02E04 - 02 Kelgrim Gives the Rootbound Mantle

Contains:

• Jornan Eastward
• Kelgrim Deeproot

Night had settled over the old watchtower like a blanket of damp moss. The fire had dwindled to a few glowing embers, casting flickering halos against the crumbled stones. Most of the camp lay in silence, but Kelgrim stood apart, unmoved.

He lingered just beyond the edge of the firelight, beneath a crooked tree whose bark curled like old parchment. In his hands, something rested—swaddled in dark cloth, held like a burden and a promise both.

"Jornan. If you're awake, come here a moment. I’ve somethin’ that belongs with you."

Jornan rose and followed without a word. The shadows swallowed them quickly, leaving the warmth of the camp behind. The two figures walked a short distance beneath the quiet of the trees, where the sky was open and the stars spilled overhead like scattered stones.

"Folk don’t always see the danger when it’s wrapped in silk and frost. But you did. And you stood firm. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t yield. That ain’t just courage, Jornan—that’s somethin’ older. Deeper."

"This land’s seen too many lords molded by outside hands. Winter may dress her words in beauty, but she’s still a storm. And storms always leave somethin’ broken behind."

Kelgrim crouched, unwrapping the cloth with a slow reverence. The cloak he revealed seemed alive—woven from bark, roots, and stone, its fibers twisted like the undergrowth of the forest floor. Pale etchings marked each charm, faintly glowing as if stirred by breath.

"This here is the Rootbound Mantle. Forged in the heart of the Duskwoods, blessed by wind, rain, and refusal. It’ll anchor you when magic would sway you. Shield your spirit when charm tries to twist it."

"It’s not just armor, Jornan. It’s a reminder—that you bent to no court, bowed to no cold promise. That your roots are yours, and yours alone."

He stepped forward and laid the mantle across Jornan’s shoulders. The weight settled not heavily, but with quiet gravity—like the hush before a storm, or the stillness of stone warmed by sun.

"Walk proud, lad. The forest watches. And now, it knows you."

The wind stirred the branches above them, soft and low, as if the land itself offered its quiet assent. For a moment, everything was still.