It has been a series of unfortunate events ever since Ayvriel left the gates of Tor Elythis behind her.
Well…
Perhaps there was the faintest touch of embellishment in her words, but it was not by much!
Within the first few hours of leaving the only life she had known thus far, the elf with starlight hair found that while she now possessed the freedom to go where she wished… it was lonely. Without the hushed murmurs of fellow academicians discussing theories or the everpresent whisper of the waves permeating through the air, it was quiet in a way the fledgling spellsinger has never known until today.
And in her first evening away from home, Ayvriel found herself lying in the middle of a flower field, longing for her papa’s wry humour and her mama’s gentle hands clasping her own as they both sang of their joy. Staring up at the stars and slowly naming them in her mind, the elven maiden cried that night, wondering through her tears if she was indeed as young and woefully unprepared as her family and magi teachers has deemed her to be.
Even through her misery, she persisted, for her pride and resolve would never allow her to falter on the path she had chosen to walk upon.
With only her beloved Hanya’ye as her companion, Ayvriel made her way towards the accursed city of Beinost. The last time she was set foot within its boundaries, it has been to provide aid and succour to its denizens. And while all traces of the devastation of the Corpse War has been erased, the echoes of suffering that she had witnessed when the city was still named Anebrilith continued to haunt her. Quiet and solemn, with a hand closed firmly around the clasp of her cloak, the elven maiden made her way towards the harbour.
A few days at sea with her telling stories and singing sea shanties to amuse children and adults alike found Ayvriel in Tirel with a more cheery disposition. Wandering timidly amongst the port city of Salvar, her eyes wide with wonderment and delight at how bright and lively its people were, the fledgling spellsinger gathered supplies and listened for news of further north. Though there was a part of her was hesitant due to the inherent dislike and wariness the northerners held for others, she knew the same was true of her country.
So it was with some pondering that saw the elven maiden deep within the verdant forest that lined the Tennaiglini. While the trees were still verdant, the trace of frost was unfamiliar to the creature that hailed from the temperate city of Tor Elythis, and even with a thick blanket and a small spellfire for warmth, Ayvriel spent the evening huddled by her companion’s side. Her second day fared no better, for while the elf had some guidance when it came to living off the land and was able to forage and hunt, she never been alone and left to fend for herself.
But it was her third day in the wilderness where the fledgling spellsinger encountered true trouble. And were it not for her keen hearing and instincts, Ayvriel would have been caught. The moment the ivory horse had raised his head from grazing on a patch of clovers, the elven maiden was prepared to bolt. But realising that their attempts at an ambush were discerned, the group of orcs bellowed, startling the already skittish Hanya’ye and sending him running from the clearing they were in.
With a note of fear resounding through her form, the elven maiden took a glance at their intimidating forms and the weapons they held… and panicked. Before she could even contemplate how absolutely obtuse it was for her to clamber up a tree, Ayvriel flowed into motion, leaping up into the sturdy oak that she was resting beneath. And there she stayed, fearful and anxious until an armoured form charged into the fray.
Her ears pricked with interest even as her gaze followed the knight, her figure weak with relief and gratitude. She was a poor warrior, and even so harassed, the argent-haired elf was still reluctant to harm her assailants. But the moment of frailty was fleeting, when Ayvriel realised that her saviour was alone, and that the orcs may use their numbers to overwhelm him. With her teeth biting down on her bottom lip, the aspiring spellsinger began to gather her focus.
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