Slayers - Volume 3 - Chapter Ep

Epilogue

“Security is pretty tight around here...” I said as I took a bite of mutton. We were in an inn close to the capital of the Holy Land of Saillune (not that I know what’s holy about it), Saillune City. “Must really be some trouble going down in these parts, huh?”

“But if everything goes as planned, we should reach the city by tomorrow,” Gourry said, not forgetting to take a bite out of his chicken.

“Thank you for everything,” Sylphiel popped in with a sudden show of formality. “I fear I’ve caused you a great deal of trouble on the way, but thank you for escorting me, Sir Gourry... Oh, and you too, Mistress Lina.”

Hey!

“Well, you’ve done a lot for us too,” Gourry replied with a goofy laugh.

He was right about that.

There was everything that went down in Sairaag, and afterward... Sylphiel was the most traumatized out of everyone, yet she’d worked tirelessly for us without a single complaint.

She’d gone to the closest neighboring city, handled all the annoying paperwork, and gotten the bounty lifted off our heads. Poor girl was homeless now too, so after that, she decided to head to Saillune City to stay with relatives. Word on the street was that things were a little dangerous in the area as of late, however, which was why she’d asked us to escort her.

If I’m being totally honest, I didn’t want to take the job. I’d met the heir to the throne of Saillune (don’t you dare call him a prince), and I wasn’t exactly a fan. But that wasn’t a valid reason to turn Sylphiel down, so here we were.

Along the way, Lantz had decided that hanging around with us was “hazardous to his health” and went off to adventure on his own. Zelgadis had disappeared too, saying he was going to look for a way to become human again. I invited him to tag along anyway, suggesting he might find something in Saillune, the city of white magic, but he just silently shook his head. Apparently that was the first place he’d tried, and he’d come up empty.

I hoped they were both doing well.

Every time I thought back to the incident in Sairaag, the scene played over in my mind. Flagoon swaying in the breeze in the middle of the wasteland. And sleeping beneath it, a nameless man birthed by Rezo the Red Priest, cursed with a wretched fate... and only a sword to mark his grave...