"And then?"
"And then?" Damond shrugged. "I hadn't considered that far ahead," he said, untruthfully, not wishing to affect Brogan with his own private misgiving. "We will be pursued, no doubt . . . hunted . . . I suppose those who survive will become bands of outlaws, struggling for survival. They may even depart these lands altother. I do not know."
"And what will happen to all our peoples?" Brogan paused in his sharpening to consider his sword down its length.
"I'm not sure I understand your meaning," Damond told him. "That they will be displaced is obvious. Beyond that . . ." he shrugged.
"The iron in our swords," Brogan said, turning to him at last and replacing his broadsword in its sheath, which lay at his side on the bench. "The magic used to forge the greatest of them. The splendour and history of the Four Kingdoms . . ."
"I would hope that we will begin anew, somewhere," replied Damond, now seeing the direction of his thoughts. "The iron of the Red Hills is not the only iron. The magic used to forge iron and steel is not the only magic.
"The splendour and history of the Four Kingdoms will be forgotten in time, I suppose. It ends here for us, but hopefully not for our descendants."