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Watching Areka through the field of trees, the dark elf chuckled to himself as he patted the rump of his raven-haired steed, “Almost there.” He reassured the animal, resting his forehead against the magnificent beast’s own before removing the traveling bags and saddle from its strong backside. It was then that he glimpsed his adamantite sword, casually propped against a nearby tree and within easy reach in the event that he required its glistening edge.
He retrieved it and attached it to his hip.
“Anything of interest down there?” He asked Areka, slowly appearing and kneeling down beside her. Reaching into the pool of water, the Prince of Har’oloth submerged his left hand, plucking a stone from its bottom and skipping it lightheartedly along the stream’s surface; the pebble disappeared in a rippling splash. He looked back to the little girl.
“How are you enjoying the trip so far?” Waiting for her response, the Vysstichi Lord could not help but smile faintly. It had not been too long since either Kalenel or Areka had joined House D’Rinishad, yet all of them had, somehow, already been united by a common bond of fellowship. But how would the trials that were Herozzal challenge those bonds? Faust wondered. It would be different when they descended to the dark elven homeland. Some things might change, but hopefully not…
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