Third Day Of Winter. Third Day Of The Veil Being In Place. Kalendryas. Era Vx (pf)
Daybreak Outside the Veil
Well, well, well.
So the sins of the fathers had finally caught up to them.
Erenthril mused quietly to himself as he paced the outer rung of the Syl’rosyian forests, his exact location caught in a crossfire between the unnatural unkempt dead trees of the Blackbarch and the more shallow, restive timber trees of the Restwood. Having stopped only briefly along the way to pick up something akin to three day’s worth of rations, hanging loosely from a leather knapsack slung over his shoulder, the Syl’rosyian Lord stared hauntingly into the recesses of shadow and pitch darkness, entirely uncertain just where his loyalties lay in the pursuit of gaining entrance.
The veil itself was hardly anything surprising to the Elf. He’d expected some catastrophe of the sort, and long unaccustomed accounts of untold ancient powers and magics had failed to disappoint of late when it came to chronicling the pages of his adventurous life. The most the allegedly impenetrable thing garnered was a mild raised eyebrow, and even then he had smirked upon his first glance upon the sheet of arcane material. Not that he’d actually bothered getting close to it yet. No…for now, Erenthril was busy contemplating whether the most proper point of penetration would be within the forest…or above it.
And given he wasn’t exactly piloting his air ship at the moment…well, it made far more sense to set out into the woods.
Woods he knew like the back of his hand, thank Phedos. Well…no. Phedos was little more than a conniving, manipulate bastard. The thought alone made Eren pause even longer, a blank expression passing over his face. The corner of his lips twitched into a feral grin; he really didn’t have a particular god at the moment, did he? Shaking his head before adjusting the silver brooch that clasped his emerald green cloak about him, the Master Elementalist began to hum a merry tune and departed into the Restwood, choosing to ignore the perils of the Blackbarch which had set him off and out of Syl’rosya to begin with.
Sure, he’d been a little Imperial of late. Helping Milo out with this. The Empire out with that. But even then, he’d gotten to spend some time with himself. Get to know himself better. Get to measure his worth against the weights of time. Crossed between Nikki, Chelseanna, and that befouling adventure off in Libertas Bay, Erenthril had perhaps done more work in a shorter amount of time than any other mentor he’d come to know. Not to forget the mayhap of rebuilding Paxia.
Walking with even strides as his slender body passed beneath the leafy boughs of crescent leaves, the Elf felt an aura of calm, peace, and ultimate tranquility lap at his body like the ebbs of a tide. He was coming home, albeit he refused to call it such, and more importantly: he was arriving as a fixer of problems. Inside, there were people he knew. People he knew that were just as frantic and panic-stricken as he was, although he did not show it. A grim smile of determination, thin as it was, plastered across his face as if he’d painted it there, Erenthril brushed back a few branches and began to set forth to the very edge of the veil itself.
He’d see what sort of tricks the forests of old had up their sleeves.