Fateless

Sparrow had brought candles into the library of the Study. There were only a few hours left before dawn when she would join Arthasdir once more in the saddle. As expected their news brought on yet another travel – a return to the lands of the Eglan wardens, this time they would gather enough manforces to be prepared to stand their ground should it come to real fighting. The air was dry the smell of old parchment steeped into the walls.

The Night is filled by the sound of howling, her hands are shaking as they pass through the pitch black wood. The smells are too familiar she knows if she climbed one of the towering trees her eyes would fall on its outline atop the ruined hillside. She wonders how her steps are repeatedly borne back to these paths against her own will her heart feels clenched inside her breast.