The Whispers Of Trees

16. The Time Nears

Sitting upon his humble, bowing throne, Yelmear Raven-son, Ategane of the Brevik woods and Southern Uskara, wound a withering wire of ivy around his fingers, his mind cast far away, until his messengers returned with news from further South.

"It burns"

"It smokes" the Ravens cawed one after the other with creaks of information that Rotask too delivered with the singed and ashen twig of a Rowan tree.

Yelmear collected it from the outstretched, bushy tail, bringing it up to the nasal crevice in the elk skull.

The scent, sweet and bitter from the sticky sap and tarnished flesh. His eyes moved to the red-headed woman, her stance and expression knowing what was to come.

"We must flee, seek refuge, Bronwyn, see to it that provisions are prepared for our leave"

She took her leave the rattling bones hanging from her staff clicking in the echoes down the tunnel.

"How far away are they my friends?" He asked, his ears appealing to either shoulder as he waited for their answer.

Ennoq replied first.

"The sun will shine on their arrival" he pronounced, his beak rubbing into his ruffled feathers that shook and malted onto the arm of Yelmear's seat.

"Two moons will pass" Ennor noted, tilting his head on its side.

"And what of Amber Bough's hunters? They still follow them do they not?"

"Indeed" came Ennor's sharp voice as he took off up to the chandelier, letting his brother finish answering. His wings shifting the Ategane's frail hair.

"Even with the talismans and protection spells, it will not be enough to save them. They have many in their tail, but they will not outrun the Mourning Disciples"

"Death to Birchwood, death to Orym, death to Alimar, death to Uskara-"

"No!" Yelmear barked with a heavy fist that fell to the splintered, wooden arm, startling Ennoq who flinched in a ruffle of feathers and a hop away from the vibrations. "They will live, if nothing else then Orym and Alimar must live, but delayed they will be. See to it that they do not reach Meer until Samhain passes. It is clear that I cannot rely on my dear brother to do so"

Ennoq joined his brother on the chandelier, both watching as Yelmear's attention drew to Rotask patiently awaiting his turn, before their wings spread wide and they glided through a small opening in the rock and rubble.

"I wish for you to deliver a message, Rotask. Send word to our old friend, the boy is soon to be discovered, but a delay shall ensue with his finding. The time still nears for him to be set free"

***

Darkness surrounded Orym and his unsurety of his whereabouts. Whether he was still unconscious or in the deep pits of the mines he wasn't entirely sure, both looked the same in his mind.

There was no sound nearby, but the feeling of the throbbing spot on his head was enough to overcome anything else, even if he were in danger, there was nothing he could do.

Laying helplessly, he waited, for how long that too was beyond him. But as he began to feel despair creeping in, the dark began to lift, like a thick cloud of fog. Voices whispered and chatted around him, some he could understand, others not so much as they spoke in tongues and mutters he couldn't comprehend. From the wispy curtain, a hand reached out, pale and elegant, the wedding band standing out above all else.

Naturally he reached out for it, feeling ice pinch and sear at his fingertips, spreading through his fingers and palm as the hand took a hold.

Alea was a slight woman, Orym more muscular, so it came as a great surprise when he was yanked from where he lay, through the fog and onto his feet. Left in a daze of confusion and slowly growing realisation.