Entry 352
Character Addendum - Petros
He sat in silence, sweat dripping from his brow as he rested. The forge's fire burned bright in the nighttime sky. Behind him lay a keep of stone, small but elegant, with plenty of room for visitors. Inside were many rooms, some held bed, others books, one held blades or ice and iron, armors of silver and fae magic from a time now long past. All was still polished and ready, set aside, but never forgotten, should he have need of them again. Some rooms held trinkets, a necklace dedicated to the ascendant order, a seashell of a fallen friend, a worn and battered hammer that for a decade taveled with him, handle worn from years of service. On a wall, framed was a page that took up almost the entirity of that room, slips of paper hung from it, runes old and new, undiscovered, or unawoken, his liniage back to his bloodline, and his gift to them in the future. In one room was a nusery, used and well loved, but untouched for some long while.
he smiled softly, thinking of his friend, family, lovers, and thought to check and see what was becoming of them. Perhaps soon he would.
He turned his attention back to the forge. The flames shifted from red to blue and back again as he cast silver metal into it and watched as it burned in places and froze and cracked in others, he turned and rolled it, he hammered, and each shockwave rang out along the snowcapped mountains that rise protectively to the north. Starlight shone down on him, how long had he been working this art? decades, centuries? he couldn't recall anymore.
To the southern tip, and covering most of his island lay a forest, planted of a few trees long ago. A tree of winter, a single bud that flourished, had been placed on the edge of a spring that fed the lake, ice cold water that shimmered with purity, on the other side of the bank a tree of silver, a tree grown from a single gift of the eluviar's shining forest. a third tree rose behind the spring, strong enough to grow from the rock itself, grown from the kherwynn forest, from a peice of wood carved long ago to protect a queen he had hurt with his actions. Now pure, these trees grew upward and entertwined, becoming a great arch of thorns and ice and silver over the pure waters that flowed down the small river and into the lake. From these trees grew the Icevine Forest, as those few visitors who had seen it, had come to call it. Tree of bright white bark, that held branches full of silver leaves, buds that in the starlight cast down by the constelations blossomed into flowers of translucent ice that collected the reflections of stars in thier prisimed petals and glowed with captured light.
Another break took him, and he sipped from a cup, looking out over this forest. From this distance, he could seem the trees shimmering, the spirits that resided within them whispering or singing thier songs to one another. He smiled gently, and then set his cup aside. A smaller tool now took his hand as he placed his work into his lap, and he began to engrave delicate symbols and inlaid them with pearlecent bit of elemental nature. for hours he worked, his hands tired and sore, but he did not stop.
At the shores of the island lay a beach of white sand at which waters lapped or crashed depending on the whim of nature, in the summer it was warm, and welcoming, in the winter, it was cold, and less welcoming, but the frozen waters would reflect the moon, and people would tavel far to walk and dance on it's frozen surface. For now it was just calm and clear, save for the occasional splash of fish or frog.
He picked up his work and turned it over in his hands admiring it's delicate artisty, and began to walk down through the forest. He heard the howl of winter wolves that ran through it, and as one came near, he knelt down and pet it gently. whispered words of respect and a ruffled scruff before he patted the waist high beast and set it on its way again. The others watched in the darkness, white furr blending with white trees, who knew how many were here now.
He reached the archway of trees, and ran his hand along the surface. He had tended this forest for a long while. It was his peaceful reprieve from the works of the forge, or of his duties as champion. His friend in the winter lord was kind, and so called on him only rarely, only when trully needed, and it may have been years since he had seen the world aside from those few so close to him that they could, and did, come and go as they pleased, and he was counted amongst those close friends. At the point where the three trees met, he placed his work, a plaque inlaid with runes. Some the mortal would knew, others would never been seen again, but as the magics took hold, runes of light shimmers in the dark, in the bark of the archway of trees and down across the rocks. He turned the disk in the wood, and the runes glowed red, a gate of fire opened in the archway, and the Malkarad root's elemental gate shimmered and appeared. A few guards on the other side, eurvien of fire, looked through quizzically, but stood thier ground. Maven and others were there, or perhaps were, he did not know how time passed. He could not remember. Another turn and green light took it, waters of the spring swelled, and the lake near shadowfane appeared and shimmered. Halia and the crimson shroud's blasted citidel could be seen in the distance, another turn, and he found others doorways, the archway tuned the the elemental gates of the world, from one came music played from a flute, and he stayed here, listening for a long while. He saw blue skin and heard witty banter and joyous laughter. He smiled softly and turned again and pushed the middle of the disk deep.
The waters of the spring froze into steps of ice and light, banked by snow that seemed to flow outward from the shimmering silver mirrior of the gate. The winterlord's domain came into view, and from it stepped a ma with long white hair and silver mask. Come, you cannot stay there forever. An incline of his head, and the other bowed deeply.
"You cannot live alone forever, winter covers one part of the world, and then the other. Let us go explore and make new friends. Let's visit old ones. The world is changing my lord, we need to be a part of it. Well, you need to be a part of it. I'm not going anywhere for a long long while, but let us walk for a bit."
~Fin
He sat in silence, sweat dripping from his brow as he rested. The forge's fire burned bright in the nighttime sky. Behind him lay a keep of stone, small but elegant, with plenty of room for visitors. Inside were many rooms, some held bed, others books, one held blades or ice and iron, armors of silver and fae magic from a time now long past. All was still polished and ready, set aside, but never forgotten, should he have need of them again. Some rooms held trinkets, a necklace dedicated to the ascendant order, a seashell of a fallen friend, a worn and battered hammer that for a decade taveled with him, handle worn from years of service. On a wall, framed was a page that took up almost the entirity of that room, slips of paper hung from it, runes old and new, undiscovered, or unawoken, his liniage back to his bloodline, and his gift to them in the future. In one room was a nusery, used and well loved, but untouched for some long while.
he smiled softly, thinking of his friend, family, lovers, and thought to check and see what was becoming of them. Perhaps soon he would.
He turned his attention back to the forge. The flames shifted from red to blue and back again as he cast silver metal into it and watched as it burned in places and froze and cracked in others, he turned and rolled it, he hammered, and each shockwave rang out along the snowcapped mountains that rise protectively to the north. Starlight shone down on him, how long had he been working this art? decades, centuries? he couldn't recall anymore.
To the southern tip, and covering most of his island lay a forest, planted of a few trees long ago. A tree of winter, a single bud that flourished, had been placed on the edge of a spring that fed the lake, ice cold water that shimmered with purity, on the other side of the bank a tree of silver, a tree grown from a single gift of the eluviar's shining forest. a third tree rose behind the spring, strong enough to grow from the rock itself, grown from the kherwynn forest, from a peice of wood carved long ago to protect a queen he had hurt with his actions. Now pure, these trees grew upward and entertwined, becoming a great arch of thorns and ice and silver over the pure waters that flowed down the small river and into the lake. From these trees grew the Icevine Forest, as those few visitors who had seen it, had come to call it. Tree of bright white bark, that held branches full of silver leaves, buds that in the starlight cast down by the constelations blossomed into flowers of translucent ice that collected the reflections of stars in thier prisimed petals and glowed with captured light.
Another break took him, and he sipped from a cup, looking out over this forest. From this distance, he could seem the trees shimmering, the spirits that resided within them whispering or singing thier songs to one another. He smiled gently, and then set his cup aside. A smaller tool now took his hand as he placed his work into his lap, and he began to engrave delicate symbols and inlaid them with pearlecent bit of elemental nature. for hours he worked, his hands tired and sore, but he did not stop.
At the shores of the island lay a beach of white sand at which waters lapped or crashed depending on the whim of nature, in the summer it was warm, and welcoming, in the winter, it was cold, and less welcoming, but the frozen waters would reflect the moon, and people would tavel far to walk and dance on it's frozen surface. For now it was just calm and clear, save for the occasional splash of fish or frog.
He picked up his work and turned it over in his hands admiring it's delicate artisty, and began to walk down through the forest. He heard the howl of winter wolves that ran through it, and as one came near, he knelt down and pet it gently. whispered words of respect and a ruffled scruff before he patted the waist high beast and set it on its way again. The others watched in the darkness, white furr blending with white trees, who knew how many were here now.
He reached the archway of trees, and ran his hand along the surface. He had tended this forest for a long while. It was his peaceful reprieve from the works of the forge, or of his duties as champion. His friend in the winter lord was kind, and so called on him only rarely, only when trully needed, and it may have been years since he had seen the world aside from those few so close to him that they could, and did, come and go as they pleased, and he was counted amongst those close friends. At the point where the three trees met, he placed his work, a plaque inlaid with runes. Some the mortal would knew, others would never been seen again, but as the magics took hold, runes of light shimmers in the dark, in the bark of the archway of trees and down across the rocks. He turned the disk in the wood, and the runes glowed red, a gate of fire opened in the archway, and the Malkarad root's elemental gate shimmered and appeared. A few guards on the other side, eurvien of fire, looked through quizzically, but stood thier ground. Maven and others were there, or perhaps were, he did not know how time passed. He could not remember. Another turn and green light took it, waters of the spring swelled, and the lake near shadowfane appeared and shimmered. Halia and the crimson shroud's blasted citidel could be seen in the distance, another turn, and he found others doorways, the archway tuned the the elemental gates of the world, from one came music played from a flute, and he stayed here, listening for a long while. He saw blue skin and heard witty banter and joyous laughter. He smiled softly and turned again and pushed the middle of the disk deep.
The waters of the spring froze into steps of ice and light, banked by snow that seemed to flow outward from the shimmering silver mirrior of the gate. The winterlord's domain came into view, and from it stepped a ma with long white hair and silver mask. Come, you cannot stay there forever. An incline of his head, and the other bowed deeply.
"You cannot live alone forever, winter covers one part of the world, and then the other. Let us go explore and make new friends. Let's visit old ones. The world is changing my lord, we need to be a part of it. Well, you need to be a part of it. I'm not going anywhere for a long long while, but let us walk for a bit."
~Fin