So, after great deliberation, or not so great depending on who you ask. My father gave me leave and permission to journey onto Breeland, the current home of Askelin and Arindiis. They shall be the ones training me during my stay, they shall be the ones responsible for my care, so will Andri. He's nice too!
My heart bounced with joy though fluttered with trepidation. Even as we began the journey, doubts began to set in my mind. Or maybe not doubts, but questions!
Where exactly were we going?
How far was it?
Is it a nice place?
What about the forests? Are there forests?
Then what about lakes? I need a good place to swim.
Oh and where would the bees live if there were no forests?
Certainly not in our new abode?
Oh! And who are the people? Are they nice?
Are there Elves?
Are the Elves as such the same Elves that skulk about the fringes of the Greenwood playing trickery upon unsuspecting wanderers?
I don't think I like Elves very much.
My racing mind was soon quelled as I spoke these questions aloud. Answered then Arindiis and Askelin who seemed to expect such questions. Andri too was curious, though more exhausted was he from our battles in Hollin and remained oddly quiet throughout our initial trek.
We traveled North from ruins white eternal, lost to the Elves which once dwelled there, in lands green and fair. That’s why I asked about the Elves.
And over tall ridged hills of windswept grass and stark thicket we did trudge, a quick set pace carried us from the lands of the holly trees and onto more forests.
So many forests!
I suppose I shouldn’t have felt too far from home having come from The Vales. Though with each step we traveled we moved further away from it.
The place that shaped me,
the place I will forever love.
Home.
I would occasionally glance Eastwards as we climbed hills and walked across the fields and valleys, gazing at the Mountains in which we came down from. As if I was looking back at my Mother the very day I set off from our home.
Nonetheless, I pressed on, my curiosity and fascination with the unknown gave me ample distraction from the strange pull of my heart, hiding deep within the adrenaline and excitement of those days. I paid this no heed for a long time after. I was far too busy to put thought into it!
We walked under the canopy of a shaw slumbering. A light rain fell from the pale wispy clouds that hung low. The forest was now owned by the Elves, though it is said Men of hills and wildlands once dwelled within. Though we saw neither.
I was also told that those woods were the abode of Trolls. Though we saw no Trolls and this disappointed me greatly. I wanted to see if they were as ugly as the tales give them credit!
We passed through old groves of thick, dark oaks, their dampened leaves already yellowing from the warmth of that summer. In fact as we closed in on the deeper parts of the wood, the weather was muggy and the damp air seemed to cling to the skin in a rather uncomfortable way. We breathed easy as night fell and the air cooled and refreshed us. We set camp within relative safety by the road that cut through the forest like a long knife, though we met almost no travelers on this road.
Curious, I thought. That a forest so pretty would not be explored by Men in these days. Whatever could discourage this? Was the Westlands more desolate than where I came from? Did all those fanciful tales in Grimbeorn’s Lodge told months ago amount to nothing but fanciful stories recited to inspire or terrify young cubs?
Well I am not a young cub anymore! I want to see things with my own eyes!
Our next leg of our journey took us through a bleak, empty land. These were low lying heathlands where more ruins lived than men. And the men who built them were long gone from this world.
It felt like an empty land, why was the road so dead? Sure, it had not been repaired for some time but I do not speak of that. I mean to say that there were no travelers on the road save us intrepid four. I did not come expecting to journey long empty miles, I expected to meet someone at least.
It was a lonesome wilderness and the sun hazed sadly upon the dry heath. We camped under the shadows of a bald hill that stood a thousand feet. Upon that hill stood yet another old ruin. Though the howling winds had gnawed them down to mere rubble, it still stood commandingly as some long extinguished beacon.
Maybe it was a castle once? Maybe someone important lived there? I wouldn’t know. But no one save the squabbling crows set watch upon the heights now.
I do not like stone, it is a cold, hard, lifeless thing. It is as dead as it is strong. As heavy as it is ugly to behold. And the firm, unspeaking walls could not possibly tell its history to anyone… Or maybe it could, but I couldn’t really care for such things.
Wood is, I think, the best material to build a house with. It came from a living thing, and it provides a homely shelter. And many years after it no longer has a resident, it returns back into the dirt, to give room and spirit for new trees.
I hope Askelin’s house is made of wood and not stone!
And by the looks of it, we are not far from reaching their lands.
They say the land we will abide in is called Bree. A safe though tame land.
I am ready! I just hope this Bree-Land will be ready for me!
