As she approached the final ridge she found two archers guarding the path towards the inner circle. If it were not for their uniform, and their obvious attempt at banning all but the Alefwar from this sight, they would be undistinguishable from her kin in Argent Glade. Beyond them, many more of their fellows were desecrating alters in plain sight. Anneleigh allowed the anger she felt towards them to flow through her veins.
She stood in the underbrush, watching the archers, trying to discern any action that would allow her to end their actions without taking their lives.
“I could take their weapons,” Anneleigh thought, “but they would surely retrieve more from Overwatch Keep within the hour. And if I did, the Alefwar would then know we mean to take action.”
Anneleigh decided the best course would be to somehow make her way into the heart of the Mirror of Ages and attempt to communicate directly with Tavril. She examined the paths towards the shrine at the center of the grove. All entrances, both common and rarely used, were being guarded.“Halt Elf! In the name of Prince Hylas.” A voice called from behind her. In her contemplation of the situation ahead, she had forgotten to watch her back.
Anneleigh thought quickly and came up with a solution that would either secure her entry or, if she were wrong in her assumptions, get her killed on the spot.
She bowed to the soldier and smiled. The smile was genuine, even if the soldier did not understand its meaning. For the first time since her return to Silverwood, Anneleigh found her twenty year absence a blessing. Her clothing was, as Sienna Faralon pointed out on her arrival, notably out-of-date. As she suspected, they did not find it out of place. Their traditions, much like their acceptance of the Vigil, were halted twenty years earlier.
The soldier approached her. “What are you doing here?”
“My sister is ill.” Anneleigh lied quickly. She rushed on, hoping her nerves would be mistaken for anxious hysteria. “I wish to pray to Tavril that her spirit be delivered into the woods. She cannot suffer much longer. I fear in her pain she may believe Tavril has abandoned her. She may begin to pray to Maurial-Taun ... or Thontic. I must reach Tavril before my sister’s ravings endanger her.”
The Soldier eyed her for a moment and then lowered his spear. “You are not of the House Aelfwar, but you are also no Guardian. How is it you are permitted to live in Silverwood without taking the oath of a Guardian?”
The realizations that House Aelfwar was no longer characterized by a singular believe in Tavril made her pause for a moment. Hadn’t Brougan Grote said the House Aelfwar refused to join the Guardians because they were devoted only to Tavril and the forest? Unable to puzzle out the answer for herself, Anneleigh decided to focus on her task and, with any luck, return to Brougan with this update in information.
“My family decided not to travel to Mathosia with Shyla and the others. When they returned to Silverwood, they seemed changed somehow. We decided, as a family, not to seek their company; to instead continue our lives as simple pilgrims in the forest. We have not changed. The others have changed around us.”
The solider nodded and seemed to let his guard down. “Tavril cannot help your sister, child. The House Aelfwar has learned this truth many months ago. Tavril no longer answers her children of the forest. If you cannot reach her at your home, you cannot reach her here.”
Anneleigh spoke quickly. “Surely, Sir, it would not hurt to allow me to try. This space has always been our connection to her. I believe in my heart she cannot hear me in the forest because I am one of many in that place. Here, I am one; One alone who can be one with her. Please allow me to try, for my sister.”
“Will you be satisfied if I escort you to the shrine and back again? I cannot allow you free passage into this area.”
Anneleigh pretended to consider for a moment. “Yes, if it is the only way. I have come so far. I cannot return home without at least trying.”
“Very well.” The soldier said, beckoning her forward. He led her through the Aelfwar. With his protection they did not attack her. Anneleigh focused her attention on hiding her disgust from her face.
Soon they reached the shrine at the heart of the grove. The soldier released his grip on her arm and she walked towards the alter. She removed her quiver, placing it to one side, and whispered her prayers. Within moments, there was a reply.“I am glad to see you here, Anneleigh, seeking the wisdom of the gods in the shadow of this ancient tree. The Aelfwar have committed a grave offense in this grove, and only you can correct it.”
“How” Anneleigh whispered.
“The Aelfwar have turned from the gods. In their fervor, they have allowed a seed of disease to sprout within them, staining all they touch. The Prince, in exchange for the loyalty of House Aelfwar, received a powerful gift from Twyl. Such a gift was not meant for the fickle hands of that treacherous elf. Take this gift, and its information. May it reveal the truth of Prince Hylas’s fall.”
As she opened her eyes, Anneleigh found a small seeding had been placed upon the shrine. She quickly scooped it up and carefully placed it into her quiver. She then stood and returned to the soldier.
“I am ready. I heard nothing but I hope my prayers for my sister will not go unanswered.”
The soldier walked her quickly out of the grove. Soon they were on the heavily travelled path.
“Remember this and share this warning with your family. If you or anyone else not affiliated with House Aelfwar return to this place, I will not be as lenient a second time.”
“I understand.” Anneleigh responded, “I will not return.”
She began to walk away from Argent Glade, not wanting the soldier to watch her return to the home of his enemy. After several minutes, and several changes in direction later, she returned to Argent Glade and Brougan Grote. Beside him stood a young elf Anneleigh had never met.“I have spoken with the Vigil at the Mirror of Ages.” Anneleigh stated, “And you’re not going to like what information I’ve brought back.”
It took Anneleigh several minutes to explain the day’s events. At the end of the story she retrieved the seedling from her quiver.
“The Spirit Guide honored you with a gift of Tavril’s Seedling, Anneleigh.” The young elf took the seedling gently into her hands. “This seems strange,” She says. “There is a magic surrounding the infant that is not of this world.”
“Cerys, can you tell what it is?” Brougan asked.
“No, I cannot. I feel its life, but there is also strangeness to it.”
“Anneleigh, you should take this seedling to Maris Telluria in Sanctum Watch. Tell her of the Aelfwar and what you learned about their loyalties. If anyone can put an answer to the mystery, it would be her.”
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