Aryanne Levell

Greensfield, a town in the Emerald Groves

Jorden

ARYANNE RAN HER FINGERS over the bark of a tall oak tree. She had felt wood before, but it was in the form of furniture, and it was smooth and polished. This wood felt rough, natural...alive. There were roots from the tree that dug into the earth, like long and skinny fingers, and Aryanne wondered how deep they went. Above her head were leaves, green and as big as her hand. They rustled in the wind, and the wind felt cool along her skin. She had never felt wind before. Gabrielen said it was the breath of the Gods, and the man Seigfreid said it was only nature running its course. She didn't know who she believed, but she didn't care. The wind blew regardless, and why it blew didn't matter.

She liked the tree. It was peaceful, and when she traced her finger along the ridges of the bark, she imagined she could hear the tree laugh, but it was probably the leaves in the wind. The world around her was just as wonderful as her uncle had said, and she wished she could have seen it in his time, when he and other elves walked the land, and built their homes and traveled the roads. Maybe one day, her and Vayln would build their own home, somewhere far away from men, somewhere safe.

"Aryanne," called Gabrielen from the horses. He and Seigfreid were already on top of theirs. "The break is over, it's time to go."

Aryanne watched as Valyn approached his horse cautiously. They terrified him at first, and his wrists would glow blue, but Gabrielen would tell him he needed to be brave. He said that the horse could sense his fear, and would buck him off if he'd try and ride it. The man Seigfreid would laugh at him, and do a bad job of hiding it. Valyn would ignore him, and calmly place his hands on the head of the horse, and the blue in his wrists would fade away.

He put one of his feet into the stirrups, as the man Seigfreid showed him, and swung his other leg around to the other side, and sat upright in the saddle. He beamed a proud grin at Aryanne. She chuckled, and grinned back.

She turned back to the tree, and placed her hand flat against the bark. Light pulsed from her palm, and seared her print into the tree. She took her hand away, and smiled. This tree was hers now.

She left the tree and went to her own horse. She liked the horses as well. They were pretty, and strong and fast, and had long hair like her and Valyn. She had seen animals before, in the form of paintings from the books of Valadel, but to have one beneath her was a different feeling entirely. These animals breathed, just like her.

Gabrielen said most horses had names, and if you named a horse, you made it yours. Valyns horse was a male horse, so he named his Zen, after the elven God of knowledge and time, Zennel. Tyren told them that Zennel was the one who created the their ancestors a time long before either he or they were born, and that his element was ice, as ice preserved all things. Stories about Zennel were always Valyn's favorite, and why he wanted to learn the ways of the frosty element.

Aryanne's horse was a female, so she named her horse Ella, after her mother, Ellawyn. Tyren told her that their mother had beautiful brown hair and wondrous irises of teal, and her horse looked the same.

Gabrielen couldn't think of a name for his, but told Aryanne he would let her know when he came up with one. Giving something a name was always special, and he wanted a good name for his horse.

The man Seigfreid said a horse was just a horse, and so he called his horse "Horse." Things should be able to choose their own names, he'd say. But Aryanne disagreed. She liked riding Ella, not just some horse.

They trotted along the trail, Seigfreid and Gabrielen in the front and the elves close behind them. They both had their hoods up to conceal their ears. The town they traveled to was in sight, within a large clearing of the groves, though there were a few trees that rested within the town itself. The sun hung low in the sky, and it'd be beneath the horizon in the matter of a few hours.

"Greensfield," said Seigfreid with a sense of familiarity, like he and the town were old friends. "I've ridden in many tourneys here. Won quite a few of them as well." He smiled at memories long past, a time he yearned for, before the Order, before that haunted castle, and before these elves. "They have some fine brothels and bathhouses here too. Celebrated most of my victories there."

Gabrielen chuckled. "You could certainly use a bath."

Seigfreid shot him a sarcastic look. He knew he smelled. Everyone that came close to him told him this. But there was nothing he could do about it, unless some noble household would let him bathe himself in their home, and that wasn't likely to happen. "Yes...I'm aware."

"The stables are over there," said Gabrielen, pointing to the wooden building with bundles of hay along its walls and fenced in horses. It was nearly a half mile outside of town, a bothersome walk for anyone without a horse. There were two men outside tending to them, one man older than the other.

Seigfreid nodded. "I see them. I'll go up ahead and talk to them. Hopefully, he can give us some supplies and we can be on our way" He looked over to Gabrielen. "You should take the elves and stay in the trees. It wouldn't be wise to bring the elves into town."

Gabrielen nodded. "Here," he said, reaching into his pockets. He pulled out a necklace with a ring attached to it and three hefty coin purses. "Sub Ranger Stormwell gave us this necklace. Said the man who owns the stables is his uncle, and this will prove that he sent us. And he gave us some gold to buy supplies."

Seigfreid eyed the three coin purses like a thirsty man would eye a glass of water. Gabrielen handed him the items, and Seigfreid held them carefully, like they would shatter if he dropped them. "Why didn't you tell me you had this?"

Gabrielen shrugged. "I didn't think anything of it. We'll be just outside the village to the west, find us when you're done." Seigfreid nodded, and Gabrielen left with the elves and went into the woods.

Once the elves were out of sight, Seigfreid trotted up to the stables, and dismounted Horse. The older man looked up at him. He was stocky, and had hairy forearms and a bald head. He was missing his right eye, as given away by the eyepatch he wore over his empty socket. As Seigfreid approached him, he turned to the other young man there. "Go tend to the horses, Aryn."

Seigfreid smiled at them as the young man did what he was told. "Is that your son there?"

The man nodded. "He is. Can I help you?"

Seigfreid cleared his throat. "I do hope so. I'm from a group of weary travelers, you see, about four of us. We have a long ride north ahead, and we're nearly out of food. I was hoping perhaps you could be of assistance? Allow me to give you my name. Jonah Duffy." He held out his hand awaiting a handshake. The man grimaced at his stench, but shook his hand anyway.

"Mason Stormwell. How far north are you headed?"

"To a village just south of the Blackrain Mountains," Seigfreid answered.

Mason nodded and gave a grunt. "Listen, Mister Duffy, I manage the horses for the lords of this town, I don't have much to-"

"I also have this, Mister Stormwell." Seigfreid reached into his pocket, and pulled out the ring Cristomir had given them. He gave the ring to Mason, who's eye lit up at the sight of it. He ran his finger over the piece of jewelry.

"Lydia...where, where did you get this? This, this ring belonged to my sister."

Seigfreid could see a tear well within his eye, and he felt what was left of his heart smile. "Cristomir Stormwell gave me that ring. Told me to give it to you, said you would help."

Mason kept his gaze on the ring, rubbing it with his fingers. "I made this ring for her, you know? When I apprenticed as a blacksmith, before my father died and I was left to run these stables. I gave it to her for her fifteenth birthday. She looked so beautiful that day."

Seigfreid stood there in silence as Mason traveled through his memories. He looked peaceful and happy, and Seigfreid would have left him there forever, but he had other errands to run. "Is there anything you can spare? Anything at all?"

Mason took some time before he answered. "Yes...I have leather saddlebags for your horses and some food I suppose I can part with, bread, dried meats, cheeses, a jar or two of jam. I also have a few swords I've kept from my time as a blacksmith. They are yours."

Seigfreid smiled. "Thank you, kind sir. You are most generous."

Mason nodded at him, but kept his attention on the ring. The engravings were just as sharp as the day he made them, and there was a hardly a scratch in the silver. He didn't have anything left of his sister, but now he had this. He looked up to Seigfreid. "I'll have everything I can spare inside that empty stable over there. Give me some time to round everything up."

Seigfreid nodded. "Thank you, Mister Stormwell. I'll return for it soon. I have a few things to do in town first."

Mason nodded. "Of course, of course. You've done me a great kindness. Gods bless you."

Seigfreid thanked him, and got back upon Horse. He started to trot off into town when Mason called out to him. "How is my nephew by the way? Cristomir?"

Seigfreid looked back to him. "He's done well. He's the Sub Ranger of the Ranger Order. He's a good man, and a fine warrior."

Mason smiled. "Lydia would be proud...and the other one? Frederic's boy, Danticus, how is he?"

Seigfreid sighed. The brat with the bow annoyed him, but he was a good lad, and like all good lads, gone too soon. And because of him, but he would keep that to himself. "I'm afraid he's passed on," was all Seigfreid could manage to say.

Mason's smile left his lips, and confusion came across his face, and then sadness. "He's passed? When? How?" His voice was on the verge of quivering.

Seigfreid didn't know the answers to either of those questions, but he'd give the man one. The man deserved that much. "I don't know when or how, but I know he died a hero, and he died a ranger. He'll live on as songs sung in the feast halls of Jorden and as a star in the sky."

Mason kept his gaze on the ground, saddened, and mournful. He hadn't seen Danticus since he was a boy. He'd always run off to watch the knights spar in the hills and patrol the roads. He remembered when he made him that wooden bow for his tenth birthday. He had never seen a boy so happy before. He looked up to Seigfreid. "Thank you."

Seigfreid bowed his head. "Thanks to you as well, Mister Stormwell."

*****

The bathhouse was just as Seigfreid remembered, made of fine wood and stone, and steamy with hot water. It was his first stop in the village. He wanted a bath more than anything else. He would head to the butcher and purchase salted cuts of meat afterwards, and then to the farmers market for bread, fruits and cheeses. If there was any coin left, he'd buy fresh robes and tunics. But right now, he was in dire need of a bath. And maybe a fine woman.

The clerk at the counter scrunched his nose as Seigfreid approached him. He looked at him with a hint of disgust, and put down the book he was reading. "Can I...help you?"

Seigfreid nodded. "Yes, yes you can. I need a bath."

The clerk looked him up and down unfavorably. "Yes. Yes you do."

Seigfreid rolled his eyes. "How much?"

The clerk gestured to a piece of parchment paper on display at the counter. It had the prices and services inked on it. "For a standard bath in the bathhouse, it will be two golden pieces. For a deluxe bath, ten."

The word deluxe caught his ear. Seigfreid retrieved the coin purses tied to his belt. He had three golden pieces in one, five in another, and four in the last one. The rest of the coins in the purses were silvers and coppers, but not many. He looked back to the clerk. "What comes with the deluxe bath?"

The clerk smiled slyly at him. "Your own private steamed bath, a platter of fine fruits and cheeses, a bottle of wine, and two fine ladies to share it with. And you may leave whenever you feel you are clean enough."

The words were like music to Seigfreid's ears. He handed over ten golden pieces happily, and his heart fluttered around in his chest with glee. He hadn't had a bath or the company of a woman in nearly a moon, much less two women.

Oh, I've missed having gold in my pockets...thank you, Sir Stormwell

The clerk gestured over to the hallway on the right. "Second room on the left. Enjoy."

Seigfreid near ran down the hallway, and threw the door open. There was a circular bath in the center of the room, nearly large enough for Seigfreid to swim in. It was carved into the ground, and the waters steamed with heat. There was a small table with bucket of ice and two bottles of wine in it, and next to it, a platter of fruit and cheese under a glass dome.

Seigfreid stripped off his dirty, tattered rags, and stepped into the bath. It was hot, and he winced at first, but as he sat in, it felt nice. He leaned back, and put his arms along the edge of the bath, and looked up to the ceiling with a smile on his lips.

There was a knock at the door. "Are you ready for us, my lord?" The voice was charming and full of youth.

Seigfreid could already feel himself harden. "Yes I am, come on in, ladies!"

The door opened, and two beautiful young girls came into the room. Seigfreid had never seen girls so radiant. They wore thin white gowns made of silk, and had gold bangles hanging from their wrists. One had blonde hair like hay, and freckles over her cheeks and arms, and eyes as green as summer grass. "I'm Ophelia," she said with the sweetest of smiles. "It's a pleasure my lord."

"The pleasure is all mine, my lady." He turned to the other girl. "And you are?"

The other girl smiled. She had hair like dark chocolate, and eyes like her hair. Her skin was like porcelain, and it was soft and flawless. "Tahlia, my lord."

Seigfreid smiled at them, and gestured to the bath. "Would you like to join me, ladies?"

They giggled, and nodded. They both slipped out of their dresses and stepped into the warm water, and Seigfreid felt himself harder than he had ever been. They sat close to him, and he could feel their soft, bare flesh on his skin.

Surely, this is what the heavens are like

"Would you like a shave, my lord?" Asked Tahlia.

Seigfreid ran his fingers over his beard. It had grown unkempt and longer than he liked. He preferred having a clean shave. He had a beautiful jaw, he'd been told, and this beard did his jaw no justice. "Yes, yes I would."

Tahlia smiled, and gathered a shaving kit from a trunk on the side of the bath. She rubbed a balm between her hands, and it became foamy. She lathered it onto Seigfreid's jaw and cheeks, and started scraping away at the hairs of his face with a straight razor. When she was done, she set the razor down, and scattered the hairs away.

"You have a beautiful face, my lord."

Seigfreid smiled, and he ran his fingers over his jawline, smooth like a babe, but chiseled like a statue. "Thank you, my lady."

Ophelia massaged his neck. "Would you care for a goblet of wine, my lord?"

Seigfreid tucked her blonde hair behind her ear. "Only if you have one with me."

She smiled, and turned to the side of the bath, and poured rich red wine into two silver goblets. While she did so, Seigfreid took in the sight of her. Her skin was flawless and tan, and her bottom was supple and well shaped. He wanted this woman. He wanted both of them, but he would settle for wine first.

She came back to Seigfreid and handed him a goblet of wine, and had one of her own. She held her goblet out. "To fine wine," she toasted.

Seigfreid smiled with his eyes. "To finer women."

He saw her cheeks redden, and he wasn't sure if it was from the warm bath water or the compliment, but he liked to think it was the compliment. They clinked their goblets together in cheers, and sipped at the fruity, alcoholic beverage. He knew the flavor. It was a merlot from Aldergate, perhaps his favorite wine to come from Arnland. The wine splashed upon his tastebuds, and memories of parties, feasts and simpler times raced through his mind.

"A fine wine indeed," he said in words drowned in melancholy. "A fine wine indeed."

Ophelia smiled and nodded her head. "Yes it is, my lord."

Tahlia had been tracing his chest with her finger, and he felt her hand massage his abdomen, and then slide down between his legs. She wrapped her fingers around him, and a faint moan escaped his lips.

"Do you like that, my lord?" she asked with an innocence in her voice that Seigfreid found near irresistible.

Seigfreid nodded slowly, and let out a deep breath. "I very much do."

Ophelia caressed his shoulders while Tahlia sat on his lap. She leaned into his ear, and gently took it between her teeth. "Then you'll love this," she whispered as she slipped him inside of her.

*****

"What is taking him so long? It's been nearly an hour," said Valyn with frustration. The three of them were sitting at the base of a great oak tree just outside the village. The sun was barely above the horizon, and it would sink beneath the earth soon.

"I'm not sure...it is a big town, and he has a famous face," said Gabrielen. He still wasn't sure if he trusted Seigfreid, and he still had second thoughts about giving him all the gold, but he felt he had no other options. He would venture into town if he could, but he couldn't chance leaving the elves alone.

A butterfly flew by them, and Aryanne followed it with a gaze made of wonder. It's wings were orange with strokes and swirls of black, and it fluttered by in the wind. "What is this creatrue?" she asked.

"A butterfly. They're everywhere around the Groves," Gabrielen responded.

"A butterfly..." Aryanne held out her finger, and the butterfly took to it, and slowly flapped its wings while it stood on her finger.

Gabrielen would have smiled at their interaction, but he noticed something from the trail, and bolted up from the ground. There were six of them, armored, carrying swords, a lion embossed into their armor.

A patrol...shit

Before he could say or do anything, the one in the front noticed the three of them. "Hey! You over there! Wait right there!"

Gabrielen looked at both Valyn and Aryanne, his heart filled with worry. They had worry on their faces as well. "Just stay calm, and follow my lead."

The patrol came up to them, and the guard in the front came forward. "What are you three doing out here?" He looked at Aryanne and Valyn suspiciously, as they both still wore their hoods. "What's with the hoods? Are you planning on stealing something?"

The other guards didn't laugh or chuckle, but kept their eyes on the trio. The three of them did look rather suspicious.

"No, sir, we aren't. Just enjoying a quiet evening out in the woods," said Gabrielen. He hoped that would be enough to send them on their way, but the guards wouldn't have any of it.

"A nice quiet evening right outside of town? Behind the stables, huh?" The guard looked to the rest of his patrol, and then back to the elves. "I'd wager you lot are horse thieves, waiting for nightfall."

"No sir, that isn't it, we're simply-"

"Shut it, I've heard enough from you. We've caught you, whatever it is you're up to. You two," he nodded to Valyn and Aryanne. "Take off those damn hoods."

Aryanne and Valyn looked at each other uneasily, and then at Gabrielen. The air was thick with tension, fear and anger. Gabrielen's fist balled, like he was ready strike the guard. Aryanne felt her wrist glow with the pale, golden light of her magic. She couldn't stop it from glowing, and she couldn't hide it either.

The guard looked at her with a furrowed brow and bewildered eyes. "What have you got there, what's that?" He pointed his eyes at her glowing wrists. Valyn's started to glow as well, blue as ice and twice as cold.

"What is this? That's it, I've had enough, come here," the guard said, quickly walking towards Aryanne. Gabrielen stepped between her and the guard. "Get out of my way, boy," said the guard.

Gabrielen stood tall and shook his head. "You have no right to-" the guard punched his jaw with a strong gloved fist, and Gabrielen stumbled back and fell.

"Gabrielen!" shouted Aryanne, she wanted to run to him and heal whatever bruise might've come from the strike, but the guard grabbed her by her collar.

"Come here, you stupid girl, and take of that goddamn-" her hood came down, and he saw them: long pointed ears. Elven ears.

"Oh my Gods..." he drew his sword, as did the rest of his patrol behind him. "In the name of the Kingdom of Jor-"

A brilliant flash of light escaped from Aryannes wrist, and the guards vision went white. He screamed, and shut his eyes shut as tight as he could shut them. The other guards were dazed, but still made out their surroundings between black dots in their vision.

"Aryanne, Valyn, run!" Gabrielen shouted!

That was all they needed to hear. The two elves turned from the patrol and sprinted down the trail, their hoods falling to their shoulders, caught in the gusts of the winds. They sprinted past the stables and into the village, drawing gasps and worried stares from the villagers that crowded the streets.

Valyn bumped into a large and burly man, and fell to dirt road beneath him. "Watch it!" the burly man shouted. He glared down at the fallen elf, and then realized he was an elf, and he took a step back. "What in the name of..."

Valyn felt his blood run cold. His wrists were blue, and his spine shivered with fear. He looked up from the dirt road for Aryanne, but he couldn't find her in the crowd. They were screaming, all of them, they were all screaming so loudly. He wanted them to stop, to leave him be, to turn away and forget about him. He came to his feet, and whipped his neck around in every direction, looking for Aryanne. "Aryanne!" he called out. He didn't hear her if she called his name. She had to be somewhere, she couldn't have left him. "Aryanne!" he called out again, his voice drenched in desperation. His wrists were cold, and frost spread along his fingertips. He felt his stomach churn, and his throat tightened. He couldn't breath.

The patrol was around him suddenly, and two of the guards wrapped their hands around his arms and brought him down to his knees. "Let go of me!" Valyn shouted.

"We got him!" he heard one of them say. His grip was strong, and his fingers dug into his cold skin.

"Where's the other one!" another shouted.

Valyn couldn't hear anything else after that. The world had gone quiet, and his blood ran colder with every second that passed. His heart was in his ears, pounding with fear. The guards were shouting, looking around, swords drawn and gleaming in the last bit of light casted by the evening sun. One of the guards pointed at Valyn, and looked at the elf with murderous eyes. He shouted something, and another guard nodded. He came over to Valyn and brought his sword point up to his neck.

"No," said Valyn quietly, "let me go..."

The guard raised the blade in the air, and took the hilt in both hands.

"Let me go," said Valyn a little louder. He felt his fingers tremble, and steam rose from his frozen appendages.

The guard was ready to bring his steel down into Valyn's neck.

"I said let me go!" Valyn screamed. His eyes turned white as snow, and his skin as blue as ice. Frost exploded outwards, and the air of the warm summer evening turned cold, and the moisture in the air turned to snow. The screaming of the villagers stopped, and all Valyn could hear was the crackling of ice as it swallowed the town of Greensfield whole.

*****

"Do come back and visit us, my lord," said Ophelia, as she dressed herself in her white dress made of silk. Her body was still wet, and the dress clung to her curves. Seigfreid savored the sight of her with lustful eyes. He certainly would visit her again.

Tahlia gave his ear a nibble. "Please do, my lord," she said with a sultry voice.

Seigfreid caressed her cheek, and pulled her lips close to his for one last kiss. "I absolutely will, my lovely ladies."

Tahlia returned the seductive smile he gave her, and left the bath herself. She gathered up her dress from the floor, and fanned it out. She dropped it in the center of the bath accidentally, distracted from the commotion coming from outside the bathhouse. "Oh, forgive me, I didn't mean to drop my dress, but do you hear that? I hear shouting."

Seigfreid waved his hand at her worries. "I'm sure it was only a lowly thief caught picking someone's pocket. Here, I'll grab your dress for you."

Seigfreid drew a breath, and went under the warm waters of the bath. He searched for the white garment in the center of the pool, and when he felt the soft fabric of silk, he clutched it between his fingers. Before he could come up for air, the heat from the bath disappeared, and the waters were suddenly as frigid as a northern sea. Seigfreid let out a gasp, which came put in the form of bubbles. His skin turned to gooseflesh and he shivered in the icy waters.

He sprang up with his legs to break the surface of the water, but hit his head on a thick layer of ice instead. He felt pain in his skull, and the ice cracked from where his head made impact. His breath started to wane, and panic filled his chest instead of air. His palms were flat against the ceiling of ice above him, and he had only enough room to move in the frozen bath as he did to crouch. He formed his hands into fists, and punched at the icy ceiling. He felt it crack, and a web grew in the foundation of the ice. His vision started to black, and he grew lightheaded. He sent his fist into the ice once more, and the ice began to give. One more punch should do it.

With the last of his strength, he struck the ice one last time, and a hole opened in the icy ceiling. He poked his head through quickly, and sucked down all the air he could. The air was cold as a winter's morning, and stung his throat. He coughed, and crystals were forming in his wet hair. He broke apart more of the ice, and crawled out of the frozen water, shivering violently. His teeth clattered together and his grip around the silk dress tightened. He looked around the room. It was covered in thick layers of blue ice, the floor, the walls and even the ceiling. Then he saw them, both of them, still as statues.

Neither of them moved, covered in a thick veil of ice, swallowed whole by the sudden flash of winter. Their radiant smiles were gone, and in their place were screams frozen in their throats.

"No, gods, no, what is this?" Seigfreid cried out. He left the room, careful not to touch the frozen women, and ran down the hall, the silk dress still in his clutches. It occurred to him he was naked, and before he left the bathhouse, he wrapped himself in the cold, soaked garment. He left the bathhouse, and stepped into a winter wasteland. Everything for near half a mile was blue and covered in thick layers of ice. Statues of people littered the streets, and there were many statues, more than Seigfreid could count. Some were tall and wide like men full grown, and others were small, like children. Seigfreid felt sick, a heavy feeling at the back of his throat.

What have you done...

He heard a whimper from the middle of the road just outside the bathhouse. It was the boy elf, Valyn, curled up in the street. He was quivering and panting, his hands covering his ears. Seigfreid ran to him, and grabbed him by his collars.

"What have you done!" he roared.

Valyn stared at him with empty eyes. His skin was clammy and pale. He didn't say anything, no matter how many times Seigfreid asked him the same question.

"Answer me elf! What did you do!" Seigfreid cried again. Finally, he released the elf from his clutches, and stood up quickly, running his trembling fingers through his soaked and frosted hair. He heard footsteps crack the icy roads from his right. Aryanne and Gabrielen were hurriedly stepping towards them, careful not to slip on the ice

"Valyn!" Aryanne cried out. She ran to her brother and took him in his arms.

Gabrielen went over to Seigfreid and shoved him. "Where were you?!"

"Do not lay your hands on me!" Seigfreid snarled. His blood was warm with anger now, and his teeth had stopped their clattering. "What happened here?"

Gabrielen shook his head. " I don't know, but a patrol found us in the woods. You were gone for nearly an hour, Whitelocke and you're...are you wearing a dress?"

Seigfreid looked down at the dress that hugged his figure and sighed. All he wanted was to be far from this dead, frozen town, and far from these elves. He walked past Gabrielen and started down the road, the half elf calling after him. His words went past Seigfreids ears, and Seigfreid only hoped the stables weren't frozen over. They weren't, as luck would have it. The ice turned to dirt just before it reached the stables, though the air was still cold. Mason Stormwell and his son were nowhere to be seen, though Seigfreid was thankful not to see them. He didn't think he could stand the sight of the man frozen, clutching his sisters ring, that sad look in his eye.

The supplies were where Mason said he would leave them. There were two saddlebags full of food, but only enough to last them maybe a day or two. There were two sheathed swords, a satchel with herbs and balms, some fresh garments and a traveler's cloak. Seigfreid dressed himself in the fresh, dry clothes, a blue doublet with grey trousers and a black hooded cloak.

Their horses were still hitched to the posts, neighing with panic. Seigfreid slung the saddlebags over Horse's rear, and climbed in his saddle. He was ready to trot off and leave the elves behind when something stopped him. He didn't know what it was. It was a feeling, something he never felt before. What was this feeling? It was strange and mysterious. Was it guilt? He seldom felt that feeling, but he was certainly no stranger to it. Whatever the feeling was, it drew him back into town, back to the elves. They were huddled around the frozen one, wrapped up in his sisters arms.

Seigfreid sighed. He couldn't bring himself to abandon them and leave them like this. Not twice in one lifetime. "We need to leave, and we need to leave now."

Gabrielen agreed, and helped Valyn up to his feet. He was slow to stand, but Aryanne and Gabrielen urged him on. They helped him mount his horse, and they each climbed onto their own. They sent their horses into a gallop, and bid farewell to the frozen town of Greensfield. Seigfreid didn't dare look back.