The winds of age swept eagerly across the landscape of the huge mountain range, one of which spread a span of hundreds of miles. Even through the snow which caressed the icy faces of the monoliths, the beauty of old still shone subtly through, enhanced by what little sunlight could seep through the thick clouds hanging barely above in the skies. Yet as any foul wound would leave an irremovable scar, so did the history of this world lay upon all lands, up to even the highest peaks of these mountains, whose beauty could not but slightly dampen the signs of ages past.

A great battle had once taken place here, as many battles did erupt across the mortal world during that time of destruction. Warring nations collided, eager to only better themselves and seek out indirect destruction of supposed allies. The elves, the humans, the tarutarus, and all other creatures; lived and thrived off of arrogance and misfortune. Only a few adventurers, misguided as they were, could see the world for what it was, and their companions for what they did.

What is past shall forever remain in the past, yet scarcely should it be forgotten. This is what defined the journey of two weary travelers, scaling the might of the mountain and bearing the anger of nature on their intrusion.

Eventually, the two slowly came to a halt, the winds dying down in this small but flattened area, the snow softly falling over this quiet ground, and the winds howling outside the boundaries, working as a soft shield would. Within this circle, there stood a single stone block, twice as tall and three times as wide as the larger traveler, who slowly moved towards it before falling to his knees in respect.

This elder, a human and the elder of the two travelers, had a slight companion as well. Besides him formed a curious shape, one of a miniscule dragon, its hide a silvery blue sheen in the peculiar light. Its master and friend was a man of knowledge and old experiences, yet continuously stood

strong in the face of any that dared come his way. His face was bearded, though neatly trimmed, and was colored a strong auburn, though the tips seemed slightly to fade and give way to gray. Wrinkles lined the edges of his eyes, which stayed in one continuous contemplative stare, no matter what the turn.

The younger, in turn, was also a human, though his ears came to a point in a strange fashion, and his frame much thinner than the elder's own. His long white hair was pulled back, tied away from his features, giving way to the hint of a prominent blood line. Surely then it would be clear as day to even the thickest of strangers, that this boy was nothing more than a half elf

"What is this place?" The younger companion started, unsure if this was where their pilgrimage should end so abruptly.

"This..." the elder motioned towards the statue, "is what I have traveled for nearly a century to discover... or should I say, rediscover." The elder's lips pursed together in a grim, saddened smile. Much, much pain was there in his past, and remorse that would not leave him at times and memories.

"But Sir Duler, this is only a stone..."

The elder, by the name of Duler, shook slightly at his student's slight ignorance. Yet, his patience prevailed, reasoning that his student was not as learned yet, and no where near experienced as he. Perhaps, it would stay that way. 'I pray the evils may never come again to this torn land...' Duler murmured, unheard to his young partner.

Slowly, the knight rose, his Dragonkin companion nudging the side of his leg. Duler smiled softly as he bowed his head, murmuring the prayer of an ancient order long created before him. The winds that howled outside the boundaries of this single room seemed to cave inward, shaking the stone and earth upon which it stood. As quickly as the event came, however, it soon went away.

The stone no longer a block, but now an intricately carved statue depicting three strange people, what one would have thought an unlikely trio.

To the left, and a bit away from the other two, sat with a contemplative, and seemingly saddened expression, a young woman with short hair, combed neatly to one side and draping over her shoulder's front. Across her lap

laid a creature's head, similar to that of the dragonkin that stood beside Duler now, it obviously sleeping besides her. A gloved hand rested gently on the creature's head, her eyes blank and staring forward. Her armor was intricate and detailed, yet the cold stone showed no hint of the true color of the traditional purple.

The younger traveler gasped in acknowledgement, the old stories and legends becoming strangely true to him.

"Raihya, one of the few accepted into the Dragoon Knight order of the past..." He whispered, yet heard clearly to his elder. Duler laughed quietly, his eyes studying the other two in the sculpture.

At the very right stood a young man, his otherwise unruly hair kept under a Minstrel's cap, his body seemingly frozen in place, yet still swayed to the music his gloved hands brought from the delicately carved harp that he seemed to hold. His eyes were closed, and he wore the attire of any esteemed Bard of that time.

Duler motioned to the Bard, and turned to his partner, "And this man, do you recognize him as well?"

It took only a moment's thought before the younger nodded, and recited an old tune.

"Through virtues to pass and still be done,

Through hearts of old and lives of one,

The sweet songs of mystic age,"

Forever did this kind soul play..." The younger trailed off, where the elder finished.

"Through battles of lost, and battles won;

Strengthen the minds of man and son,

Though echoing silently in this haven,

None to be forgotten, the humble Loryn"

"Bards... bards still sing of a mysterious minstrel who never failed to stray away from the continuous bustle that all other minstrels are so at home with. So peculiar was he, till the very end..."

Duler smiled at his student's regained intelligence, nodding at the previous statement.

Again, Duler turned to gaze upon the sculptures, now examining the center image. It was of his friend, his companion. The stone knight stood tall, his sword held straight, the tip pointed to the heavens, and his shield at his side. His hair was tied as an old order would, back and out of way, short as it was. His brows were knit, as though in quiet concentration, and his legs slightly apart and ready to thrust himself head first into battle.

"And he, my student, is Lord Varana." Duler spoke quietly, afraid that his voice may waver due to the memories long passed. He motioned for his student to sit, and he soon joined him upon the snow covered ground.

"How did they come to be? Or cease to remain?" His student asked, unaware of the bluntness of his very question. Duler merely encompassed himself in his memories, attempting to choose a correct path for which to tell his stories as he could rightly remember.

"Mmm... The long war had begun, and pushed on for many years. Even after this long time, the damages of war felt throughout the realm, the fighting never ceased. It was the Dragoon Knight, so accustomed to appearing and disappearing as she saw fit, slowly began to distance herself from her two closest companions. Though she was foolish, the other two sought, indirectly, to bring her back with the softest of notions. But, as Raihya had silently predicted and dreaded, so she had put in motion further than what she sensed before her drift. These three friends, the closest than any could come to imagine, would slowly tear away from each other."

Duler exhaled softly, sadly. "It was Lord Varana whom suffered greatly from this." He paused, glancing at his student, who questioned him with his unsure gaze.

"Why you ask me ever so quietly... Raihya had been accustomed to continuous hurt, torture that she had inflicted to herself over the years with her studies, as well as her confines to solitude for many hours. Friendship, she never sought, and it was friendship that came to her. In some ways, the Minstrel Loryn was similar to the dragoon, though his emotions were much more open and much less cold. It was Lord Varana who sought the help and stability that only true friendship could offer.

"Try as he might, though, the bonds of their friendships, forged over years of fighting alongside one another, they had slowly begun to tear from time and differences so evident, yet had never been observed in the year before.

It was Varana who watched and waved good bye silently as his two companions rode off, together, bidding him farewell. It was he who watched the two ride, and eventually separate from each other in the far distance."

The student nodded to this short tale, the ending one of personal pain and misery. "And this sculpture..? How did it come to be?"

To this, Duler merely smiled sadly, turning towards the sculpture. His hands ran over the cool stone, drinking in the intricate patterns that seemed to bring the stone to life.

"This was a gift from beloved friend to beloved friend. It was during the midst of the second rebellion, where they stood apart yet close. The artist in question was able to capture that moment in time, so long ago. Raihya, ever silently remorseful; Loryn whom danced and created music to move even his greatest troubles a-sway; and Varana, his faith ever helping him to rise time and time again."

To this, the younger traveler nodded, understanding. "Many more statues, many more monoliths litter this mountain side. Perhaps we are to find another..."

Duler merely waved his head, speaking quietly to his one companion and pet dragon kin, urging them to rise and gather materials for the journey ahead.

As the two left, Duler, old friend of the three and the last remaining Dragoon Knight of his era, turned to the statue. He shook his head, and walked off, alone again.