Cold morning rain had given way to thick fogs the cling to the very branches of the dark forest, and rightly named. Though in the fields the sun was breaking through, here it did not breech the leaf canopy. Water dripped from swaying hemlock and willow trees from a nonexistant breeze and the sound of what could only be described as soft song could be heard whispering as if spoken in your ear and yet a mile away.
Disorintating and disturbing, it was a feeling that kept most far distant from the boarder of the forest, despite the seren beauty it gave off in morning highlights. Only a brave handful dared tread this forest floor, fewer still had the steady nerve needed to live there. Luck and a little chance would see you safely from one side to the other, but they were in short supply here, and most would not chance that the odds would fall out of their favor.
But one thing would get you through without any hassel, a friendship beyond any other, one that would protect you from the harm that could be inflicted here, one that would not break until the end of your life. Elves very rarly handed their friendship so openly to human kind, weary and suspisious of anyone except other elves, had for many years grown rumor and stereotype to the anchinet race, that had exisited sense the beginning of time, or so the histories told. Three great races had come from their movments, covering there great lands, but amongst their kind there was another, a fourth, and though less frquent and harder to find, their friendship was the greatest of all, for they were strong, brave of heart and unwavering.
Earendur Pallanen had learned close to a hundred years ago not to flinch at the name Avari, it ment he was diffrent, he knew that, and often left him alone, but it also lent him special privilage. Like now, as he stood at the window of his room, offered to let him rest and recover from the last battle. He had healed, it had taken time and effort, but he had managed not to tear his wounds back open.
Now he watched the west seas glimmer below and others of his kind preping a boat. He had thought long and hard about leaving, but he was Avari, he would stay and look out for this land, and his people. Picking up his cloak and tugging on his boots he headed for the door, out onto the expansive balcony and down the main stairs.
His steps were light, from months of laying and sitting still, now he felt the urge to go, already he had stayed too long. As his feet hit the marble stone walk he was already letting out a sharpe peircing whistle. He crossed the court yard and bowed at the master elf as he came down from the main terrance.
"You are going then?"
"I must, I have a long journey yet to go, my father's land lays across the plains of Gondur, beyond the gates of Rohan and through the White Mountains," Earendur answered, "A journey which must begin with a single step, or it will never begin at all."
"I understand, your saddle is in the main stable, packed with freash breads and cheeses, your water bags are full and I have seen to cleaning your weapons and filling your quiver," he stated softly.
"You knew I would go, my many thanks, to you and your people. Safe journey from this land sir, my graditude for all you have given me."
"Your very welcome Earendure, safe journey," he answered as the white mare appeared finily from the mists that held the tree line tightly. He moved from his host to the aging mare, brushing his fingers over her soft muzzle.
"You go on from here Jade," he moved to lead the mare back to the mablre stable, pillers like trees lineing the great entrance and gathering his saddle dropped it lightly over her back, sliding her armour over her flanks and shoudlers, lineing the topline of her neck, before clinching the saddle in place and laying the saddle bags in place, lashing them to the saddle. Sliding her bridle over her head, adjusting the armour there to make it more comfortable before buckling it in place as well.
He lead her to the trail out of the area and paused to look back as the mare danced beside him, her feet hardly touching the ground. For a month she had run on bridled amongst the trees, but laying ahead of them was a perfect trail, as if the trees themselves had moved for them. The weight on her back and the days of lazy living left her heart with an urge to run and as Earendur put his foot in the stirup she settled, her muscles quivering as she waited.
Earendur settled in the saddle, the reigns tight in his fingers for a minute before he let her have her head and she immediatly reared, whinning loudly before he heeled her forward and she launched off her hind quarter into a full out gallop. They were on their way, it would prove to be a long trip, but before long he would be on the step of his father's home. Smiling Earendur lowered over her neck, dropping into the saddle, moving with her as she flew down the trail and towards the light that was already warming the rest of the world.
Disorintating and disturbing, it was a feeling that kept most far distant from the boarder of the forest, despite the seren beauty it gave off in morning highlights. Only a brave handful dared tread this forest floor, fewer still had the steady nerve needed to live there. Luck and a little chance would see you safely from one side to the other, but they were in short supply here, and most would not chance that the odds would fall out of their favor.
But one thing would get you through without any hassel, a friendship beyond any other, one that would protect you from the harm that could be inflicted here, one that would not break until the end of your life. Elves very rarly handed their friendship so openly to human kind, weary and suspisious of anyone except other elves, had for many years grown rumor and stereotype to the anchinet race, that had exisited sense the beginning of time, or so the histories told. Three great races had come from their movments, covering there great lands, but amongst their kind there was another, a fourth, and though less frquent and harder to find, their friendship was the greatest of all, for they were strong, brave of heart and unwavering.
Earendur Pallanen had learned close to a hundred years ago not to flinch at the name Avari, it ment he was diffrent, he knew that, and often left him alone, but it also lent him special privilage. Like now, as he stood at the window of his room, offered to let him rest and recover from the last battle. He had healed, it had taken time and effort, but he had managed not to tear his wounds back open.
Now he watched the west seas glimmer below and others of his kind preping a boat. He had thought long and hard about leaving, but he was Avari, he would stay and look out for this land, and his people. Picking up his cloak and tugging on his boots he headed for the door, out onto the expansive balcony and down the main stairs.
His steps were light, from months of laying and sitting still, now he felt the urge to go, already he had stayed too long. As his feet hit the marble stone walk he was already letting out a sharpe peircing whistle. He crossed the court yard and bowed at the master elf as he came down from the main terrance.
"You are going then?"
"I must, I have a long journey yet to go, my father's land lays across the plains of Gondur, beyond the gates of Rohan and through the White Mountains," Earendur answered, "A journey which must begin with a single step, or it will never begin at all."
"I understand, your saddle is in the main stable, packed with freash breads and cheeses, your water bags are full and I have seen to cleaning your weapons and filling your quiver," he stated softly.
"You knew I would go, my many thanks, to you and your people. Safe journey from this land sir, my graditude for all you have given me."
"Your very welcome Earendure, safe journey," he answered as the white mare appeared finily from the mists that held the tree line tightly. He moved from his host to the aging mare, brushing his fingers over her soft muzzle.
"You go on from here Jade," he moved to lead the mare back to the mablre stable, pillers like trees lineing the great entrance and gathering his saddle dropped it lightly over her back, sliding her armour over her flanks and shoudlers, lineing the topline of her neck, before clinching the saddle in place and laying the saddle bags in place, lashing them to the saddle. Sliding her bridle over her head, adjusting the armour there to make it more comfortable before buckling it in place as well.
He lead her to the trail out of the area and paused to look back as the mare danced beside him, her feet hardly touching the ground. For a month she had run on bridled amongst the trees, but laying ahead of them was a perfect trail, as if the trees themselves had moved for them. The weight on her back and the days of lazy living left her heart with an urge to run and as Earendur put his foot in the stirup she settled, her muscles quivering as she waited.
Earendur settled in the saddle, the reigns tight in his fingers for a minute before he let her have her head and she immediatly reared, whinning loudly before he heeled her forward and she launched off her hind quarter into a full out gallop. They were on their way, it would prove to be a long trip, but before long he would be on the step of his father's home. Smiling Earendur lowered over her neck, dropping into the saddle, moving with her as she flew down the trail and towards the light that was already warming the rest of the world.