Wyntr had been on the road for nearly two weeks now and was only just approaching the end of the first leg of her journey. The Forest of Sorrows lay sprawled out before her looming with the weight of its secrets. She would have reached Sorrows sooner if she had taken a more direct route. But she could not bring herself to be the cause of any one's shattered dreams. Even if the children (and adults) of Valdemar did not fully understand a Companion's Choice they all had the dream of riding off on a Companion to join the King's service then embark on grand adventures; all with the goal of leaving their more pedestrian life behind. Sadly those 'lucky' enough to be Chosen swiftly learned that they may have been better off with that pedestrian life they had so eagerly abandoned. To see her come cantering through town would only raise people's hopes and then shatter them the minute they realized that she would not be stopping. Wyntr could not do that even if it was faster to travel on the main roads. Therefore she stuck to the back roads seeking shelter in the Waystations when she needed to; using paths that only a Companion or possibly a goat could find. It may have made for a circuitous route but Wyntr counted her blessings. At least she could move openly and in the day light; poor Lathan was having no such luck.
He had crossed the border into Rethwellan a few days back and had been forced to restrict his movements to nighttime only. He did not need to be as cautious as he would have been if Lathan was traveling through Karse; but, he still traveled at night not liking the way some Rethwellans viewed him as a "fancy bit of horse flesh." Wyntr couldn't fault his caution she would rather avoid people instead of risking some ignorant fool's attempt to stick a bit in her mouth or use spurs on her. It was bad enough in Valdemar when a fool attempted to strap up a Companion like they would any average horse but at least in Valdemar there was a guarantee that someone else around would be able to recognize a Companion for being something more than just a horse. No matter how many times a Herald and Companion visited Rethwellan the native populace could not grasp the concept that Companions are a different breed from horses.
The only thing that would cure them from their stupidity would be for a Companion to Choose one of those overly inbred, ridiculously named Rethwellan nobles. Wyntr thought to herself shaking her head. Her worry for Lathan could prove a distraction for her during her Search.
.:Now that would be a solution I promise to mention it to Taver the next chance I get.:. Lathan's mindvoice came to her, faint with the effort of covering the miles in-between them. Still she could clearly sense his amusement and it felt like a warm spring rain.
.:Don't worry for me love you have your Chosen to find and I must find mine. I am only in Rethwellan to gather information about my Chosen just as you travel through Sorrows.:. He reminded her. .:Focus on finding your Chosen, lover mine, the sooner you do that the sooner we will be together again.:.
It was a tempting thought but Wyntr recognized it for the dangling carrot that it was meant to be. She had used that particular carrot on him once or twice in the past and was slightly surprised to have the tables turned on her. For a moment she thought about arguing with him but decided to let her silence speak for her. Once again she felt his amusement. With an exasperated snort Wyntr started moving towards the tree line.
Perhaps this distance between us is a good thing; she through to herself not bothering to keep it private knowing that Lathan would eavesdrop. After all absence makes the heart grow fonder.
.:I love you too dear heart; and I do miss you.:.
.:It is healthy for you to miss me.:. Wyntr replied tossing her mane and nickering. Accompanied by the sound of Lathan's laughter she entered Sorrows.
...
Wyntr knew all the stories travelers whispered about the forest and Vanyel's Curse; she also knew the truth. Every Companion, to some extent, knew that Vanyel's curse was real, only a select few knew just how real. Taver as the Grove Born stallion knew and Wyntr had been born with the knowledge. Even if she hadn't it would not have been so impossible for her to believe that Vanyel's spirit remained in the forest protecting Valdemar's northern border.
Why wouldn't he time himself to the forest to stand as an invisible barrier to any foe from the North? No Herald, when given the option turned down the chance to continue to serve and protect Valdemar. If they did then there would be a serious shortage in the number of Companions born each year. The kind of people Chosen by the Companions were not the type to allow something like death to prevent them from doing their duty. Yes Wyntr understood very well why Vanyel remained.
She could also understand the prohibition on true magic in Valdemar. She had been a Herald herself in the years following the death of the last Herald-Mage, and she remembered how difficult it had been to gain the people's trust and respect. No one in those days believed that Heralds with only their mind-magic was enough protection. The people of Valdemar had been spoiled by magic; they relied too heavily upon it to solve their problems. Moreover, they failed to see when things were made worse because of magic. But most of all there had been mistrust because for the most part one couldn't actively see the results of mind-magic. No one ever easily trusted in anything that appeared underhanded.
She shook her head violently to ride it of its cobwebs. Perhaps Lathan had a point when he claimed that she spent too much time concerned about the past. I best get my head out of the clouds; I don't need him thinking that he's right; Wyntr chided herself.
With that in mind; Wyntr picked a meandering course through the strangely still woods. She did not bother to stick to the road or any other marked pathway realizing that what she needed to find was not something that one could be lead to. It was far more likely that she would just stumble across what she needed. Therefore she took her time traveling through the forest noticing how the sunlight filtered through the trees. In some places there were brighter shafts of sunlight than in others. Curious she looked up to see that some tree branches were nearly bare; the leaves having changed and fallen to the forest floor long before she arrived. It had been a little past mid-summer when she left and now autumn was well under way this far north. She hoped she would be able to find her Chosen before the snow started flying. Wyntr did not cherish the idea of traveling in the cold and snow. She picked up her ambling pace just a little bit and moved further into the forest.
Eventually the sound of running water reached her ears and Wyntr shifted directions to head towards it. She was not overly fastidious by nature but it would be nice to wash some the travel and grime out of her fetlocks and a drink of water to cool her throat would always be welcomed. In all honesty it was more the thought of a nice drink that drove her forward than the need to get clean.
The path slowly opened up on a sheltered glade. On one end there was an opening to a cave and sporadically throughout the glade willows had sprung up to provide some shade. There were patches of wildflowers some with butterflies lazily hovering above them. Running alongside the glade – nearly opposite from where she was standing – was a happily bubbling brook; the sight of which caused Wyntr's ears to swivel forward with interest.
Carefully Wyntr made her way towards the brook; she did not want to disturb the glade unnecessarily, she had the sense that this was a private place. Therefore she set each hoof down with all of the care of a dainty court lady. For all of the impression she made on the soft turf she might as well have been living in the body of a rabbit instead of a powerful horse.
Not only did Wyntr sense that this was a private place but it was a cherished one as well. The little she disturb the meadow the more appreciated her efforts would be. For all that the glade looked natural Wyntr could feel that it had been tampered with; in little subtle ways but still tampered. The smell of magic in this place tickled her noise making her nostrils flare with the effort of stifling a most unladylike snort. Although she was not clear on how she personal felt about someone tampering with nature for purely cosmetic reasons, she certainly could find it in herself to respect any entity possessing enough power to shape nature to his will. She was also not foolish enough to anger such an entity.
Upon reaching the brook Wyntr discovered that not only was it deeper than she had expected but it flowed along at a rapid pace. She also noticed that there were quite a few sharp and heavy rocks on the water bed. Apparently whoever had shaped this glade did not care much for swimming. Not willing to risk breaking a leg Wyntr decided to forgo wading in the water. She would just have to have her Chosen give her a good rub down and depending on how well he scratched the itchy spots she might not let him stop. While prudence kept her from washing away some of the accumulated grime, she still could get a drink. She dipped her muzzle into the brook only to jerk her head back with a snort of surprise at the waters cold temperature. She had suspected that it would chilly but not borderline on ice cold. Shaking herself she resolutely reached forward for another attempt.
After drinking her fill she realized that night was swiftly approaching and Wyntr did not feel any pressing need to move on. Truth be told a she was tired from the days of constant travel; a weariness that had settled into her very bones. Besides she was taking this detour through Sorrows specifically to speak with the forests inhabitants. Moreover, what better way to gain their attention than making herself an unavoidable intrusion on their privacy. They can attempt to track me down for a change; Wyntr thought not worried about governing the waspishness of her thought. She was glad that Lathan was now out of mind-speaking range and too preoccupied with his own journey to tap into a node and boost his gift merely to scold her. He would have a few comments about her tone, but she couldn't really help it excessive travel made her cranky. Being tired as she was she lost all control over usually tranquil disposition.
As exhaustion settled in Wyntr looked about for a place to bed down for the night. At first she considered using the cave, and although it looked inviting she quickly dismissed the idea. The cave reminded her of the secluded groves in the palace gardens and she knew that they were a favorite for clandestine meetings between lovers. She wanted to be a nuisance to the forests inhabitants but she did not want to intrude that much. Besides if she really angered the restless spirits they could decide to collapse the entrance to the cave and leave her trapped there. Not that she seriously believed such a thing would happen but she did believe in being cautious; one never knew what would upset isolated spirits.
Therefore since it was still quite warm for an autumn night and she truly believed that any harm would befall her while in this glade, she decided to sleep beneath a willow tree. Folding her legs beneath her she lowered herself to the ground. The grass formed itself around her body feeling just as soft and plush as it had looked. With an explosive sigh Wyntr rested her head on her forelegs and closed her eyes. She couldn't help but wish that Lathan was curled up beside her and if she couldn't have him she wanted her Chosen with her. In a perfect world both would be by her side. Alas, she had never lived in a perfect world and doubted that she ever would.
Wyntr woke to the sound of birdsong, a woodlark if she was any judge. Her ears twitched involuntarily in an attempted to locate which direction the birdsong was coming from. She refused to open her eyes and look; if she opened them then that meant that it really was morning. Wyntr did not want it to be morning. The chirping of some infernal bird could be ignored but not the proof of her own eyes. A bird might be easy to ignore but the persisting grumbling in her stomach was proving too much for her; particularly when the smell of apples reached her nostrils. Predictably her stomach began to growl in response. That's what finally persuaded her to open her eyes more than any chirping ever could.
Wyntr pealed open one sapphire eye to find the glade was flooded with sunlight and the source of that near heavenly aroma was right in front of her. Just out of her reach was a neat little pyramid of tantalizing red apples. With a sudden surge of energy she did not entirely feel Wyntr scrambled to stand. Once standing she eyed the apples warily. She was more than hungry enough to just devour them. But part of her did not trust mysteriously appearing apples, and so she hesitated.
.:Go ahead little mother and eat your fill, I promise they are not poisoned.:. A man's baritone reassured her coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Wyntr snorted with derision – trust a spirit to know that I am a mother; she thought to herself not at all impressed. Now if he can tell me how many foals I've had, I just might be impressed.
.:Three so far, all colts.:. A man's tenor whispered by her ear causing Wyntr to whinny in surprise her head jerking back even as her eyes widened and her ears swiveled forward.
.:Let her eat.:. This new voice was distinctly female. Moreover this newcomer spoke with an exasperated authority and it was a tone Wyntr remembered using whenever her colts had pushed her to the end of her patience and beyond.
.:I do not mind holding a conversation over breakfast,:, Wyntr informed the bodiless voices politely enough, then allowing some of her own exasperation to show continued. .:I do however, mind not being able to see those who I am conversing with.:.
That remark earned her an amused chuckle from the baritone and outright laughter from the tenor. Sunlight began to pool in three separate places; one directly in front of her, one right next to her and the third in-between the two and off to the side a ways. Within those pools of sunlight's figures began to take shape. They never fully solidified – for Wyntr could see right through them – but when they were done forming she found herself looking at two men and a Companion.
.: Well said little mother; our apologies for not showing ourselves earlier. Usually one expects a stranger to react rather poorly to the sight of a ghost.:. Again the baritone spoke and its owner proved to be the man standing directly in front of her. He was wearing an antiquated version of Heraldic whites a version that Wyntr vaguely remembered wearing herself once upon a time. She regarded the specter of Vanyel calmly with one eye before turning her attention to her breakfast.
.:I see that meeting three ghosts does not phase you.:. Vanyel continued wryly.
.:She is a Companion why should it?:. Yfandes asked sounding smug.
.: 'She' has a name and it is Wyntr.:. Wyntr spoke up quickly getting tired of being talked about directly over her head.
.:It is nice to meet you Wyntr, please excuse their manners it's been many years since we've had any company.:. The other man (who must be Stefan/Tyelndal) greeted her. For a moment she was relieved to see that at least one of the spirits had some manners. She reckoned without knowing Stefan's talent for causing mischief.
.:It's a shame your Stallion could not have come with you Wyntr. I would have loved to meet the fellow that could tempt you to risk your girlish figure not once but three times!:.
.:Apparently it's true what they say everybody's a comedian, even the dead.:. She retorted dryly earning out right laughter from all of them.
.:How may we help you my dear?:. Vanyel asked once his form had stopped fading in and out in time to his mirth.
.:I am looking for my Chosen and have reason to believe that you know where I can find him.: