"Finally... out of that damned forest," murmured the warrior, stretching with a grunt of relief and fatigue.
The knight let himself fall heavily against a tree trunk. "One more day of travel and we'll reach the city. Let's rest here; the road may still hold surprises."
The group settled around him, weariness etched on their shoulders. The hunter disappeared into the bushes and returned shortly with a bundle of dry branches and a few stones. With precise movements, he arranged a circle of stones and built a perfect pyre: the thickest branches in a pyramid shape, the finest as tinder at its base.
The wizard extended his hand and snapped his fingers. "Ignite," he whispered. A warm, golden flame sprang from nothing, embracing the firewood with a friendly crackle.
As faces were illuminated by the fire, the wizard rummaged through his clothes and extracted a thin scroll of bark. Everyone turned their gaze towards him. He unrolled it with a solemn gesture. "Release!" he pronounced in a clear voice.
The scroll dissolved into a dust of glowing ashes that rose for an instant before vanishing. Left hanging in the air were ten berries of a deep, vibrant purple, which fell softly into the palm of his hand.
"Want one?" offered the wizard, putting one in his mouth.
"Great. I was hungry," admitted the hunter, taking another.
"If there's no other choice...," conceded the witch with a resigned sigh, accepting hers.
The knight took one in silence, observing the fruit with curiosity before eating it.
"I have jerky. Save the rest for tomorrow," said the warrior, chewing a piece of dried meat.
"Drop the stubbornness and take it. I wasted a first-level scroll on this," retorted the wizard, pushing a berry at him almost forcibly.
The warrior sighed, put away the jerky, and accepted the purple fruit.
"Five left. They'll do for tomorrow," murmured the wizard, storing them carefully.
An awkward pause stretched out, broken only by the crackling of the fire.
"So, what do you all plan to do when we get to the city?" the hunter finally asked, trying to sound casual. "A long rest?"
"I'm retiring," said the knight without preamble.
The warrior stared at him. "What?"
"The monastery is calling me back to fulfill my vows. I'll be a guardian of its walls for... ten years."
"That sounds like shit," blurted the hunter. "So we won't see you again? I don't like that."
"Actually...," the witch raised her hand, cutting through the air. "My coven needs me too. There are problems only I can solve. I was going to say it later."
"That's it," said the hunter, standing up. "So this is... the end."
The wizard let out a long sigh. "I suppose the party disbands," he said, eating another berry. He had thought to save it, but now it seemed pointless.
"It was a good journey," said the knight, a shadow of sadness in his voice. "I'll miss you all."
"Don't say that," growled the hunter, his face tense. "We'll see each other again. For sure."
"Yeah... probably."
"Two years... went by fast," reflected the wizard. "It was a journey full of adventures."
"Yes... it was," murmured someone in the gloom.
Night turned to day, and they arrived at the city gates under a heavy silence. Their first stop was the Adventurers' Guild.
"Proof of the hunt?" asked the receptionist professionally.
The wizard stepped forward and pulled from his bag an enormous, curved, and sharp spine, ripped from the beast's back.
"Confirmed," she nodded, and disappeared behind the counter to return with several canvas bags that clinked with a metallic weight. "Six hundred and fifty gold pieces. One hundred and thirty per bag."
"We also want to sell this," said the wizard, emptying the contents of a side sack.
The woman examined each trophy with an expert eye. "Hide, claws, fangs, giant spines, heart, liver, fat, bones, tendons..." She did a quick calculation. "A hundred for the hide, fifty for claws and fangs, two hundred for the spines, seventy-five for the heart, the same for the liver and fat, and forty for the rest of the bones and tendons. Total: six hundred and fifteen gold pieces."
"Accepted," nodded the wizard.
As some assistants carried away the loot, the receptionist returned with another bulging bag. "Here you are. Anything else?"
"Yes. We're dissolving the party."
She nodded, understanding. "I'll need your guild badges."
One by one, they placed the small carved metal plaques on the counter. A faint magical glow faded from each one as they did so. "You are now officially separated. Have a good journey," said the woman with a slight bow of her head.
The tavern smelled of smoke, stale beer, and old wood. The group took a table in a corner, where the paladin raised his glass.
"May this last day together be one worth remembering."
"Cheers!" chorused the others, clinking glasses with less force than usual.
Drunkenness enveloped them like a heavy cloak. When day faded into night, the knight—the only relatively sober one—helped drag his stumbling, humming companions to their rooms.
He found the wizard still sitting at the table, staring fixedly at the bottom of his glass.
"Not necessary. I'm fine," said the wizard, though his words were slightly slow.
The knight approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Lesser Restoration," he murmured. A soft glow emanated from his palms, bathing the wizard in a soothing light that dispelled the fog of alcohol.
"Ah... much better," exhaled the wizard, blinking with renewed clarity.
"I'm still surprised you held out that long."
"High willpower, I suppose," said the wizard with a half-smile, holding out his empty glass.
The knight took it and whispered: "Create Water." The vessel filled instantly with a crystalline liquid.
The wizard took a sip and frowned. "It works, but it's not the same as good wine in the long run." He then took out one of the last purple berries and ate it.
"Wait... didn't you say they only lasted a day?"
"There's still an hour left," replied the wizard, offering him the last one. "Take it. I don't need it anymore."
The knight accepted the fruit and felt it dissolve into a wave of subtle energy that chased away the last vestiges of heaviness.
Both remained silent for a moment, looking through the tavern's grimy window at the full moon hanging over the city rooftops.
"I hope we meet again," said the wizard, his voice barely a whisper.
"If the designs of the heavens permit it, our paths will cross again," responded the knight, without taking his eyes off the silvery light.
And in that shared silence, under the same moon that had seen them fight, laugh, and travel together, the fellowship of the adventure came, softly, to its end.