Even as her brother suffered through the forest, a certain oblivious elf continued on with her merry meandering.
Alone and without a need for haste, Ayvriel ambled along at a gentle pace, her footfalls dainty and wary as she made her way through the forest. And perhaps it would have taken someone determined less than a day’s journey to reach her desired destination, but the fledgling spellsinger was satisfied with her headway.
With Hanya’ye in the care of the kind old lady who has given her shelter two nights prior, the elven maiden has wandered away from the safety of the sleepy village on her own, her leather bag containing her belongings swaying at her side. As she has always travelled with an escort, be it with a coterie of retainers or the presence of a protector, Ayvriel has never had to worry about the dangers that may lurk in the shadows. So when she had left for the northwest a day ago, the only matter that was on the her mind was the direction of the once city of Anebrilith.
Even as she stepped away from the dirt path and vanished amongst the verdant foliage, she knew not of the rumours that there were sighting of the undead hiding within the peaceful woods.
Her first day was quiet, with only the humming of insects and the whispers of leaves as her companions. When the silence became too much to bear, the elven maiden sang nonsensical ditties to herself, even as she wondered if she would ever grow familiar with the echo of loneliness that haunted her steps. It was during these moments between that she found it the thrums of melancholy and doubt stirring within her heart.
I miss papa and mama…
Am I truly ready?
It has only been a few days since she had left the gates of Tor Elythis, yet she was already yearning for home.
Perhaps it was the true reason as to why she was pursuing what her papa would call a fool’s errand. Ayvriel wanted to see for herself if their villa in Anebrilith was still standing… and if the music box she had forgotten could be found lying right where she left it, beneath the pile of pillows on her bed. Her mind told her that it was silly to even contemplate that something as delicate as a music box would remain untouched in the chaos that was the Corpse War. Her heart continued to hold a flicker of hope, borne from an unwavering wish that there was a faint chance that it may have remained unspoiled despite the war, despite the elements, despite scavengers.
Even if not, all she wanted was a piece of it.
After all, the music box was a gift, the final one that was given to her by Mika… and La’el.
So even with her trepidation and the realisation that she would have to endure much hardship, Ayvriel persisted on her course.
But even possessing the knowledge required for such an endeavour, with her lack of familiarity, the elven maiden used twice the time another being would have needed. She had spent the night at an abandoned encampment, amongst the decaying stockades and vine obscured hollows and rusted weaponries as she whispered old lessons learned under the bright moon, her eyes flickering towards any strange sounds.
Weary, but determined, Ayvriel had continued on her journey once dawn has arrived. The anticipation that she was close to the boundaries of the land that belonged to House Leviasi ia Saiph was the only reason she found the strength to quicken her steps. Though worn and frayed, the magic of their family sang to the fledgling spellsinger, welcoming her as she stepped across the imperceptible barrier.
She was home.
Back to the place of halcyon days, before they were all touched by the pain and suffering wrought by war.
Back to the place of joyful memories, where their only worries were staining their clothing with the juice of summer berries.