Blodgarhm
I resisted the urge to snarl slightly as the trader unconsciously began to run closer to me. It was bad enough having to be next to the Rider this whole journey. She stepped too loudly, louder then any one of my kind. During the long, seemingly perpetual hours of the journey, her heavy steps were the only things I could concentrate on.
Though, in her defense, her endurance was as good as any elves. It annoyed me that she wasn't panting or slowing yet, like even the best of her kind would be doing at this point. Actually, the best of her kind would have failed long ago, after only a few leagues.
We'd left the city of Uru'Baen two days ago, and had passed the Ramr River soon after leaving. Since then, we had been in the barren wasteland that is the Hadarac. We were supposed to catch sight of Du Weldenvarden by nightfall, and for that I was grateful. The thought of finally returning to my home after so many months away was gratifying.
Because we were cutting straight across the Hadarac, we would reach the part of Du Weldenvarden closest to Kirtan, a small city where many of our soldiers resided because of its location. The town was on the fringe of Du Weldenvarden, so if there were there to be an invasion, they could respond quickly.
In Kirtan, our forces would split; the injured and the weary would stay until they recovered, along with those who didn't live in Ellesmera.
This is what Arya had told us, before leaving Uru'Baen. She was temporarily made our commander, along with one of the high lords of Osilon, until we got into the great wood. As of now, she had done well in the position,
"Where… where exactly is this forest?" Jace huffed suddenly, her voice strained slightly. So she was wearing out… I held back a smirk as I answered her.
"We shall be coming to it soon, do not fret so." I answered, and out of the corner of my eyes I saw her shoulders slump slightly.
"You say that every time-" She paused to breath, "I ask, even when we'd just gotten into the Hadarac." I looked over at her fully for the first time, and was surprised for a second.
She was well past the point of when she should have stopped to rest. Her running posture had completely changed from the proud, tall, long stridden figure she had been when we began, and now her boots scuffed the ground slightly with every steps, her face was covered in a sheen of clammy sweat, and she looked incredibly worn out.
"Yes… well, I mean it this time." I said, breathing deeply in as I looked back to the unmarked path we traveled on.
When the trees of Du Weldenvarden finally did come into view, I was just able to stop a sigh of relief. Though I could go much longer, I had grown weary of the constant pounding beat I had acquired long ago.
The dragon, Shroud, suddenly swooped down, landing twenty yards ahead of us. Jace shook her head at the dragon, her brows furrowing. With that, the dragon lunged forward and grabbed the back of her tunic, swinging her onto the saddle she hadn't used yet.
Without waiting a moment, he took off, and I couldn't help smile slightly. While the relationships between dragons were confusing, I don't think anyone would find himself regretting one.
After a brief meeting with the guardian of the forest, we continued on, Shroud now walking at the back of the group with Jace still mounted.
The thick foliage of the great trees along the path provided a relief from the sweltering sun of the Hadarac, and it refreshed us all – just enough to continue to Ellesmera.
We continued the pace we had set until we arrived to Kirtan. The few elves that had remained, those either too young or inexperienced and those who we set to guard our home, came out and immediately set to work on aiding the wounded to the House of Healing (A/N I borrowed that term from Lords of the Rings – I couldn't think of one on my own – and I do not claim it to be my own in any way).
I assisted one elf who had been injured with a poisoned blade – a poison which stopped magic from having any effect on it, which meant no healing by magic could be done – before we were once again ready.
Arya somberly briefed the few residents of what had happened, and a mourning cry went up from one of the three children that had stayed in Kirtan. The single, piercing note stayed in the air for a few seconds before dying out, and I bowed my head out of politeness.
We had mourned as much as we could in Uru'Baen, for our fallen Queen and all our lost kin, and for now we would set it off until we arrived in Ellesmera, where the proper funerals would take place. It would be a depressed time for Du Weldenvarden, one probably only second to our battle with the dragons many years ago.
When we continued on, returning to the trodden path leading to Ellesmera, I imprinted the memory of the day at that point into my mind. It would be the happiest one for months.
A/N
Sorry for the late update! My soccer practices began two weeks ago, and I've been trying to finish the new chapters to my stories on the weekends but, combined with homework and other things, I wasn't able to.
I realized I hadn't ever seen anything about the mourning period the elves had, but I'm sure they had one, so I'm including it in this story.
I appreciate the reviews, alerts and favorites, and hope to see what you thought about this chapter! (I'll be switching POV's a lot, as you can probably tell :P)
Thanks for reading!
-Ash Colored Wings
