Some months later, after the first 100 days of mourning Pai had ended, during which time Mae had not sought my company, I was sitting outside one morning reading my paper and drinking a beer – routine re-established.I heard the distinctive sound of a blind person’s cane tapping its way down our small street; I didn’t look up until the tapping stopped, then heard the lady with the cane ask:” are you the foreigner who lives in this street?” She must have sensed my presence somehow.I couldn’t answer for some moments, so dumbstruck was I. She was the very image – maybe a virtual image – of Pai, here at my gate!“Yes, yes I am a foreigner” I stammered as, at the sound and direction of my voice, she turned and tapped her way to the gate. Apart from unseeing eyes, her stature, her long hair swaying down her back, her body, smooth, unwrinkled skin, even her wrap-around skirt and shirt covering well-remembered curves, were an almost perfect copy of beloved Pai. “I can’t read obviously” she. She did her best not to waddle in, eventually collapsing by her bedroll. “Feeling alright?” the mound of dwarven muscle known as Sten grunted.“Oh just fi-““I still don’t know why you’re out here,” Brandon interjected, not bothering to look up from his tome. “Shouldn’t you be... I don’t know. At a temple? Or at a midwife’s? Plenty of other rangers could’ve taken this job.”Morrigan rolled her eyes and propped herself on an elbow. “Well, a couple things with that. Firstly, bold of you to assume I have the funds to stay a temple that handles situations like mine. Secondly, I prefer being out here than in town, and thirdly, perhaps the most important one, Brandon, you’d all be absolutely lost without me.” At the last remark she flashed a smile that, while going on unnoticed by the offending party, still felt good to let off.He sighed and shook his head. “Forget I said anything.”“Gladly!” Morrigan beamed and looked over at Tilda’s tent. The Halfling walked out holding her breastplate and a.
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