"Entula tuulo' i'ba."
The rays of the rising sun reflected over the snowy sill, passing through the window and creating a silken glint throughout the bedroom. It was the first day of the twelfth lunar cycle, and even the sumptuous star that provided light for the world seemed lethargic in its awakening. His mind became aware of the swelling sunlight that filled the room, and his eyes opened as if they were virgins to the world. Taking a brief moment to absorb how the natural light exhibited the allure of the antique bookshelves sitting just beyond his feet, he recalled Elidyr's wise advice to always relish the beauty of nature:
"When you have spent many years savoring and ruminating on the life of the trees and rivers--only then will you truly know the suffering they have seen."
He rose from his bed, returning his mother's quilt with utmost care to its place. He made his way to the window, where the coldness on the other side made every attempt to find the slightest flaw in craftsmanship so as to expand its dominion into the humble hut. He looked outside. Stillness. The wind did not blow the branches, the animals were hidden and sleeping, and the thin blanket of snow that covered the ground remained undisturbed. He contemplated, as he had many mornings previous, the persistent dream.
"Entula tuulo' i'ba."
The words must have been of some importance. He could not recollect the vaguest meaning of the phrase from his early childhood spent with his mother's family, nor could he find anything about it in the books they had given him when he left. Considering the determination of the dream, he knew that in due time his path would lead him to discover its significance. For now, though, he decided to spend his off-day in the wooded region of N'havae. He took his over-robe from the lone table in the center of the room, fastening it snugly over his shoulders and stepping outside.
Shutting the door behind him, his eyes demanded a brief moment to adjust to the newly introduced brightness. He pulled up his hood to shield his face and warm his ears, remembering a certain recurring event from his childhood.
"Hey kid, what's the matter? Did an orc stomp on your ears?"
"Yeah right, he probably just rubs them up against his mommy all day long!"
The children laughed at his expense and ran away, as they did every day, without fail. He really didn't understand what was so unpleasant about ears that were only slightly more rounded on the ends than all the other children's ears.
He tightened the leather belt that held his pouch and dagger, making certain everything was secure. As soon as this was finished, he felt a slight rumbling in his feet, followed by the sound of a nearing set of hooves. He looked up, and as he expected as per his other senses, a hooded rider was swiftly approaching.
