Legends Lost Tesnayr

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  Nelyn stood under a canopy watching the snow fall around her in swirls. Occasionally, the wind blew harder causing the snow to move horizontally. She had witnessed harsh winters before but this was the worst she had ever been in. The cold prickled her exposed cheeks. Sighing, Nelyn released a large breath and watched the cloud of vapor that formed before her. Such a thing always fascinated her.

  “Thought I’d find you here,” said Arnin as he approached.

  “I needed to be alone,” she replied.

  “Here,” Arnin handed her a cup of weak tea. “I assure you that Turyn hasn’t been in it.”

  Grinning, Nelyn took the cup and sipped it enjoying the warmth as it moved down her throat and to her stomach.

  “Why is it you and Jarown don’t talk anymore?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Nelyn, you cannot avoid him forever.”

  “I do not want to talk about it,” said Nelyn, ending the subject. “Will this storm ever end?”

  “It will eventually,” Arnin said, “This is normal for the mountains. It snows for weeks at a time before the weather clears up.”

  “Belyndril was never like this.”

  “Well, this is good weather compared to the Ársa Mountains themselves,” Arnin indicated the six tallest peaks within the mountain range. “On those it snows from the onset of winter until the beginning of spring and sometimes even in the summer.”

  “Too much snow for me. I prefer the warmth of summer and the green pastures and flowing trees. Everything is alive then.”

  “Everything needs its rest,” said Arnin, “I like the crispness of winter. It makes me feel alive.”

  “It’s quiet. Too quiet,” Nelyn commented.

  “It is the silence of man’s soul so that you will appreciate the rebirth of spring.” Idæas walked up from behind.

  “What is it with you elves and speaking in riddles?” asked Arnin. “Always with you it’s ‘darkness reaches for us’ or ‘red dawn of treachery’. Can you not speak plainly?”

  Idæas closed the distance between him and Arnin. “Not everyone can be as plain as you. You’re wanted in the kitchens.”

  “I think he was being sarcastic,” said Arnin after Idæas left.

  Alone in the dark, Tesnayr sat on his cot rubbing his face. Tired though he was, he had not been able to sleep. Some time had passed since he and Jenel had come to a truce, one that he was glad of. Ever since, things had gone more smoothly.

  Flapping wings caught his attention. A red cardinal entered the tent and landed on his shoulder with parchment in its beak. The bird dropped it into Tesnayr’s lap, chirped, and flew away.

  Astounded by the manner in which the fairies sent him messages, Tesnayr lit a lamp and picked up the folded parchment. It crinkled as he opened it. Instantly, the writing caught his attention as he realized its importance. It was not just any map, but one that marked every area the orcs had conquered and what they planned to take next.