Cinnamon Raymaker and Lihan Taifun
Elwing blinks repeatedly as the snowflakes batter at her eyelids. The temperature has not improved with the distance eastward she has flown. Turning occasionally and glancing behind to make sure the giant swan still follows her, she peers downwards, trying to sight the landmarks she has come to rely on. Arien's vessel must surely be almost at the end of its journey and still no sight of the gap between mountains has appeared on the horizon.
Aztryd crouches against the swan's neck, trying unsuccessfully to shelter from the freezing wind. Nole's straps hold her securely in the saddle. As long as the swan's strong wings continue their steady beat, all Aztryd need to do, and all she can do, is endure the passing hours.
Hoping Aztryd is comfortable enough, Elwing calls out to Alqua encouragingly, asking her to keep beating her wings to help speed the little mother and her daughter homeward. Then she turns and concentrates fully on finding the Blue Mountains as quickly as she can. Elwing looks around as the snow abates just a little, and there is a gap in the cloud allowing a sparkle of light to appear. Ilol
ts reflection off the waves ahead seems to be guiding them to their goal. Suddenly, she sees the shadowy mountains ahead and calls out in delight. Elwing gently banks around, calling to Alqua to do the same.
Aztryd can feel little Nizl squirming and shifting petulantly inside her own backpack. It is hard for a little one that age to be confined for so long, but there was no other way to carry her in safety. Elwing's cry is lost to Aztryd over the rush of wind, but Alqua hears, and dips her strong wings in a graceful bank, following Elwing. Aztryd gasps at the change in direction, clinging tightly to the saddle as her numb backside slips sideways.
Elwing smiles inwardly as she sees Alqua following her, racing over the waves towards their final destination. As the miles speed past, Elwing thinks back to the warmth and friendship she found with Aztryd's gammy and the delicious food she prepared, and Elwing's belly starts to growl in anticipation.
Aztryd 's belly is hollow by now, and she is sure Nizl's tiny belly is complaining even more loudly than her little lungs. Yet they are dwarves, and they push on, frozen mile after mile. Perhaps, Aztryd hopes, this change of direction is a sign that their destination is drawing near, for they have flown in a straight line all the day. The thought of journey's end, of putting her feet on solid ground, and seeing her old home and her family again, brings a smile to her exhausted face.
Elwing calls to Alqua to prepare to land on the mountainside just ahead. The cover provided by the snow will ensure her safety until her presence can be explained. Gliding carefully towards her intended goal, she concentrates on transforming at just the right moment. In a shimmer of stars, Elwing returns to her slender elven form, the freezing cold snow and icy wind hitting her like a solid barrier and taking her breath away. Exhaustedly, she lands in deep soft snow and crawls into the shelter of the small copse of trees ahead.
The mountainside does not register in Aztryd's numbed brain until it nearly fills the view before them. Alqua spreads her wings wide, to slow herself, tipping a surprised Aztryd back in the saddle. Alqua plows into the soft snow, skidding to a stop near to where Elwing landed. Aztryd sits for a few breaths, glad to have finally arrived, not yet ready to force her stiff muscles to move.
Elwing looks to the sky to see Alqua slowing herself before landing and then watches as the swan lands safely close by. Aztryd appears unharmed, and her backpack is safely secured. Nizl is still in there, she thinks to herself, her mothering instincts immediately awaking her to action. She scrambles through the snow, forcing her cold limbs to work, so that she can assist Aztryd and Nizl. Reaching Aztryd, she starts picking at the bindings holding her friend to the saddle.
Aztryd looks down gratefully, as Elwing begins to loosen her from the saddle. "Thank you, sister," she croaks hoarsely. "How fared you?"
Elwing looks at her friend and replies, "I am somewhat exhausted, Aztryd, and cold. I am so pleased my uncle thought ahead and stowed that cloak away for me. I think I was a little shortsighted thinking I wouldn't need it. A sip from that flask he gave you would also go down well!" Elwing blows on her hands to warm them and turns her attention back to unfastening the bindings, which have done their work exceedingly well.
"Aye, it would!" Aztryd agrees. Twisting in the saddle, she works at the icy ropes holding the spare cloak in place, and tucked within that cloak, the flask. It is slow work, in the dark, the moon hidden by the snow-filled clouds. Nizl's cries sound louder, without the rush of wind. "Yes, yes, magpie," Aztryd croons to her. "We are here, we are safe. You will be out in a minute." Their voices sound loud, in the silence of the wintry night.
Elwing struggles with frozen fingers and pulls at the bindings, a small sigh of triumph exudes from her lips as they finally come loose. "There, Aztryd, here let me help you down," she murmers. Elwing stands to allow Aztryd to use her as a support.
Aztryd 's stiffened legs can hardly move. Leaning against Elwing, she shifts her weight, until she slides off the saddle, into a heap in the snow. Laying on her back, she sighs in relief, and kicks her feet into the air, enjoying the freedom to move again.
Elwing smiles at her friend and holds out her hand to help her up from the wet mound of snow into which she has fallen. "We should gather your belongings and head for the compound," she suggests, looking towards the backpack containing Nizl.
"Aye, we should get in out of this weather," Aztryd says, as she takes Elwing's hand and pulls herself upright. "Let us get you that cloak and flask, as well." She turns back to the swan, but the cloak atop the saddle is now too high for her to reach.
Elwing follows her friend's line of sight and moves across to Alqua's side, reaching for the flask and the warm cloak her uncle had provided for her. She quickly wraps herself in the cloak and hands the flask to Aztryd. "Here sister, take a drink from the flask and warm yourself. Then we can go search out your gammy!" she says
Aztryd gratefully takes the flask, and takes a sturdy gulp from it. It does, indeed, provide a comforting warmth in her stomach. But they will all need real food soon. She unfastens the ties on her own pack, enough to pull Nizl out of her nest of cloths. Nizl is of course quite damp, and rather smelly, but no matter. Aztryd holds Nizl under her cloak, as she readjusts the backpack. Patting the giant swan on the neck, she murmurs, "You did very well, Alqua. My thanks."
Elwing smiles at her friend's recognition of the bravery of Alqua. Turning to the swan and curling her arm around its neck, she nuzzles into the soft downy feathers, crooning words of thanks and comfort in the bird language they share. "You must stay here Alqua, stay hidden. Make this thy nest until we return to you. These people do not know of you as friend - you must be wary of danger."
Stroking the great swan's neck again, she turns to Aztryd, seeing her friend checking on her young child. Elwing takes a small sip from the flask and feels the warmth enter her body, except for the tips of her toes. Looking down, she remembers her feet are bare. "Oh, dear. I think I must quickly find some footwear, Aztryd. The sooner we find the compound and the entrance to the caves the better. I think it is just a little way down the mountainside from here." Elwing turns and starts slowly making her way to the edge of the mountain from the copse of trees, straining to see any outline of the fortifications she knew existed nearby.
Aztryd looks around as they walk, gathering her bearings. They are indeed near the front gates of Gamilfûn. Yet all is silent and dark. "Sister Elwing," she says quietly, "This is strange. Even at night, there should be sentries and torches at the doors."
Elwing looks in alarm at her friend and realizes that there are no lights around this mountainside whatsoever. Come to think of it, it was eerily silent as well, silent except for the crunching made by Aztryd's boots as she walks through the snow and the occasional loud howling of a gust of the icy cold wind. "I wonder why that is so," she retorts.
The road to the main gates shows only as a treeless swath in the snow. Warily, Aztryd walks up along the edge of the cleared road. In the wall of the mountain before them, she can dimly see a hole. Not a locked gate. A gaping hole.
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Aztryd crouches against the swan's neck, trying unsuccessfully to shelter from the freezing wind. Nole's straps hold her securely in the saddle. As long as the swan's strong wings continue their steady beat, all Aztryd need to do, and all she can do, is endure the passing hours.
Hoping Aztryd is comfortable enough, Elwing calls out to Alqua encouragingly, asking her to keep beating her wings to help speed the little mother and her daughter homeward. Then she turns and concentrates fully on finding the Blue Mountains as quickly as she can. Elwing looks around as the snow abates just a little, and there is a gap in the cloud allowing a sparkle of light to appear. Ilol
ts reflection off the waves ahead seems to be guiding them to their goal. Suddenly, she sees the shadowy mountains ahead and calls out in delight. Elwing gently banks around, calling to Alqua to do the same.
Aztryd can feel little Nizl squirming and shifting petulantly inside her own backpack. It is hard for a little one that age to be confined for so long, but there was no other way to carry her in safety. Elwing's cry is lost to Aztryd over the rush of wind, but Alqua hears, and dips her strong wings in a graceful bank, following Elwing. Aztryd gasps at the change in direction, clinging tightly to the saddle as her numb backside slips sideways.
Elwing smiles inwardly as she sees Alqua following her, racing over the waves towards their final destination. As the miles speed past, Elwing thinks back to the warmth and friendship she found with Aztryd's gammy and the delicious food she prepared, and Elwing's belly starts to growl in anticipation.
Aztryd 's belly is hollow by now, and she is sure Nizl's tiny belly is complaining even more loudly than her little lungs. Yet they are dwarves, and they push on, frozen mile after mile. Perhaps, Aztryd hopes, this change of direction is a sign that their destination is drawing near, for they have flown in a straight line all the day. The thought of journey's end, of putting her feet on solid ground, and seeing her old home and her family again, brings a smile to her exhausted face.
Elwing calls to Alqua to prepare to land on the mountainside just ahead. The cover provided by the snow will ensure her safety until her presence can be explained. Gliding carefully towards her intended goal, she concentrates on transforming at just the right moment. In a shimmer of stars, Elwing returns to her slender elven form, the freezing cold snow and icy wind hitting her like a solid barrier and taking her breath away. Exhaustedly, she lands in deep soft snow and crawls into the shelter of the small copse of trees ahead.
The mountainside does not register in Aztryd's numbed brain until it nearly fills the view before them. Alqua spreads her wings wide, to slow herself, tipping a surprised Aztryd back in the saddle. Alqua plows into the soft snow, skidding to a stop near to where Elwing landed. Aztryd sits for a few breaths, glad to have finally arrived, not yet ready to force her stiff muscles to move.
Elwing looks to the sky to see Alqua slowing herself before landing and then watches as the swan lands safely close by. Aztryd appears unharmed, and her backpack is safely secured. Nizl is still in there, she thinks to herself, her mothering instincts immediately awaking her to action. She scrambles through the snow, forcing her cold limbs to work, so that she can assist Aztryd and Nizl. Reaching Aztryd, she starts picking at the bindings holding her friend to the saddle.
Aztryd looks down gratefully, as Elwing begins to loosen her from the saddle. "Thank you, sister," she croaks hoarsely. "How fared you?"
Elwing looks at her friend and replies, "I am somewhat exhausted, Aztryd, and cold. I am so pleased my uncle thought ahead and stowed that cloak away for me. I think I was a little shortsighted thinking I wouldn't need it. A sip from that flask he gave you would also go down well!" Elwing blows on her hands to warm them and turns her attention back to unfastening the bindings, which have done their work exceedingly well.
"Aye, it would!" Aztryd agrees. Twisting in the saddle, she works at the icy ropes holding the spare cloak in place, and tucked within that cloak, the flask. It is slow work, in the dark, the moon hidden by the snow-filled clouds. Nizl's cries sound louder, without the rush of wind. "Yes, yes, magpie," Aztryd croons to her. "We are here, we are safe. You will be out in a minute." Their voices sound loud, in the silence of the wintry night.
Elwing struggles with frozen fingers and pulls at the bindings, a small sigh of triumph exudes from her lips as they finally come loose. "There, Aztryd, here let me help you down," she murmers. Elwing stands to allow Aztryd to use her as a support.
Aztryd 's stiffened legs can hardly move. Leaning against Elwing, she shifts her weight, until she slides off the saddle, into a heap in the snow. Laying on her back, she sighs in relief, and kicks her feet into the air, enjoying the freedom to move again.
Elwing smiles at her friend and holds out her hand to help her up from the wet mound of snow into which she has fallen. "We should gather your belongings and head for the compound," she suggests, looking towards the backpack containing Nizl.
"Aye, we should get in out of this weather," Aztryd says, as she takes Elwing's hand and pulls herself upright. "Let us get you that cloak and flask, as well." She turns back to the swan, but the cloak atop the saddle is now too high for her to reach.
Elwing follows her friend's line of sight and moves across to Alqua's side, reaching for the flask and the warm cloak her uncle had provided for her. She quickly wraps herself in the cloak and hands the flask to Aztryd. "Here sister, take a drink from the flask and warm yourself. Then we can go search out your gammy!" she says
Aztryd gratefully takes the flask, and takes a sturdy gulp from it. It does, indeed, provide a comforting warmth in her stomach. But they will all need real food soon. She unfastens the ties on her own pack, enough to pull Nizl out of her nest of cloths. Nizl is of course quite damp, and rather smelly, but no matter. Aztryd holds Nizl under her cloak, as she readjusts the backpack. Patting the giant swan on the neck, she murmurs, "You did very well, Alqua. My thanks."
Elwing smiles at her friend's recognition of the bravery of Alqua. Turning to the swan and curling her arm around its neck, she nuzzles into the soft downy feathers, crooning words of thanks and comfort in the bird language they share. "You must stay here Alqua, stay hidden. Make this thy nest until we return to you. These people do not know of you as friend - you must be wary of danger."
Stroking the great swan's neck again, she turns to Aztryd, seeing her friend checking on her young child. Elwing takes a small sip from the flask and feels the warmth enter her body, except for the tips of her toes. Looking down, she remembers her feet are bare. "Oh, dear. I think I must quickly find some footwear, Aztryd. The sooner we find the compound and the entrance to the caves the better. I think it is just a little way down the mountainside from here." Elwing turns and starts slowly making her way to the edge of the mountain from the copse of trees, straining to see any outline of the fortifications she knew existed nearby.
Aztryd looks around as they walk, gathering her bearings. They are indeed near the front gates of Gamilfûn. Yet all is silent and dark. "Sister Elwing," she says quietly, "This is strange. Even at night, there should be sentries and torches at the doors."
Elwing looks in alarm at her friend and realizes that there are no lights around this mountainside whatsoever. Come to think of it, it was eerily silent as well, silent except for the crunching made by Aztryd's boots as she walks through the snow and the occasional loud howling of a gust of the icy cold wind. "I wonder why that is so," she retorts.
The road to the main gates shows only as a treeless swath in the snow. Warily, Aztryd walks up along the edge of the cleared road. In the wall of the mountain before them, she can dimly see a hole. Not a locked gate. A gaping hole.
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