Wandering

It feels so good to be out of the city again. Cienwyn moved through the rippling grasslands, watching the storm-tossed sky as it lurched and raged spectacularly against the velvet-black belt of the night. Her dainty, gloved hands splayed open to feel the flower-created tips of the long grass that tickled her slight, lithe form, pressed by the same screeching wind that teased her long, lustrous hair to life. Yes, she thought, It feels good to feel free. Ahead of her, the looming mass of the Nothern Forest bowed threateningly on the horizon, skirting the cliffs and mountains beyond like a protective belt, a shroud for the dangers that lay in those formidable mountain passes. Here, out in the rain and the darkness and the cold, the girl felt the confinement of Seahaven's walls slowly wash away, and exultation filled her to the very core.

The last month had taken more of a toll on the girl than she would have admitted to anyone but herself. She could feel the callouses that had begun to form in a little ridge along her palm beneath her fingers, rendered by the pestle she used to grind her herbs into healing potions. Her long-lashed lids now drooped- seemingly without falter- in weariness, and she felt the weight of her feet that pressed at her steps. Her dreams, which had quietened of late, were now haunted by the wails and sobs of the plague-ridden city, the dirt and the hopelessness seeming to seep from the now-ravaged slums.

She hadn't anticipated that her steps would quite lead her to this place. Wide, blue eyes traced the carved willow-tree, illuminated by the fireplace in the clearing beyond. With a deep breath, Cienwyn slid her hands over the door, and, eyes half-closed, pushed the portal open.