Ferds Of Time

The Elf

Chapter 5

The Elf

The night had fully set in, and the snowfall continued to gently cover the surroundings in a blanket of white. Alron, his mother, and Freya traversed the path, their bodies shielded from the chilling snow by their thick cloaks. The journey back to Wolfur was silent, each one lost in their thoughts, the sound of crunching snow and the soft rustle of the wind the only companions on this cold night. Beor had already taken the pull cart home, so the trio walked in silence, each step creating a muffled crunch against the snow-covered ground. The only sounds breaking the stillness were the noises of their own footsteps and the soft rustling of fabric against their cloaks. Their faces were mostly expressionless, each lost in their own thoughts, the events of the day still weighing on their minds. Alron's mother led the way, the light from the candle lamp she held illuminating the path up ahead. Alron followed silently behind, carrying the dress Freya had purchased earlier in his arms. The snow continued to fall, adding a surreal atmosphere to their walk through the cold, silent night.

The silence was broken when Alron spoke up, his voice cutting through the quiet night, "I think we should have stayed the night in Pinechill." His words seemed to hang in the air for a moment as they echoed through the snowy silence. The silence was broken when Alron spoke up, his voice cutting through the quiet night, "I think we should have stayed the night in Pinechill." His words seemed to hang in the air for a moment as they echoed through the snowy silence. Freya chuckled in response to Alron's mother's enthusiasm, a small, amused smile playing at the corners of her lips. Alron glanced over at her, sharing in her amusement at his mother's eager words. Alron let out a playful, exasperated sigh and replied in a slightly annoyed tone, "Fine, but let's hurry. I need to sleep." Despite his faux annoyance, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he spoke. At Alron's resigned response, his mother chuckled softly, her expression full of affectionate amusement. With her candlelit lamp guiding the way, she led Alron and Freya further down the path, her footsteps light and quick in her eagerness to move. "Yes, yes, no need to be grumpy," she replied with a hint of laughter in her voice. "We'll return home soon enough. You can get your beauty rest, my boy." Alron couldn't help but roll his eyes affectionately at his mother’s comment, but his smirk showed that he wasn’t truly annoyed. "I’m not grumpy—just tired," he protested lightly. Freya chuckled at the exchange, her eyes sparkling in the dim light from the lamp. "Oh, don’t worry, Alron," she teased, nudging him playfully. "You need all the beauty rest you can get." As the group continued their conversation, Freya playfully shot another teasing jab at Alron, referring to his earlier morning activity. "Well, you did get up quite early today," she added. Alron sighed dramatically, his expression a mixture of mock exhaustion and embarrassment. "Oh, let’s just drop the subject, alright?" he retorted, clearly trying to change the topic. Despite Alron's attempts to change the subject, Freya and his mother couldn't resist the laughter as they continued their walk through the wintery woods. The cold air was filled with their lighthearted banter, the crunching of snow under their boots, and the gentle wind rustling through the trees above them.

The night's tranquility was shattered as the sound of galloping from the surrounding woods filled the air. The trio's heads snapped in the direction of the noise, their eyes searching the dark, snow-clad trees for the source. As the trio listened to the sound of the galloping, Freya spoke up, her tone nonchalant. "It's just deer, probably," she said, her eyes still darting around the woods. Despite her dismissive remark, Alron could see a hint of tension in her stance. The trio froze as a galloping horse suddenly burst through the woods, its dark form becoming visible as it charged towards them. The sound of thundering hooves against the snow echoed through the air, making the trio's hearts race. The horse was a sight to behold, its sleek, muscular form and flowing black mane contrasting beautifully with the white snow surrounding it. Its golden eyes shone brightly in the darkness, and for a moment, Alron and Freya found themselves mesmerized by its beauty. On the back of the horse, a sun elf was slumped, his hands still grasping tightly onto the reigns. Alron and Freya stood frozen, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and awe as they gazed at the breathtaking sight in front of them. The sun elf on the horse seemed disoriented and on the verge of losing consciousness, hanging limply from the horse's back. Alron's mother was the first to break the silence, her voice trembling with a mix of caution and concern. "Stay close," she whispered to Alron and Freya, her hand instinctively reaching out to pull them closer to her. Alron and Freya obediently stepped closer to Alron's mother, their attention still fixed on the horse and its rider. The horse seemed agitated, its powerful legs pawing the ground and its dark form shifting restlessly. The elf on the horse opened his mouth, and in a weary, wounded tone, he spoke, "I need...help." His words were labored, and it was clear that he was struggling to remain conscious.

The elf's request was clear and urgent. "Take...me to the nearest town," he said in a broken voice, his words punctuated by labored breaths. Alron's mother, her instinct to help others taking over her fear, spoke up. "We can take you to Wolfur village," she offered. “That will-..” The elf's words were cut short as he suddenly lost consciousness, his body collapsing against the horse's back. Alron's mother, seeing the elf's condition, stepped forward with determination, urging Alron and Freya to help her. "He's unconscious. Come on, we have to get him to Wolfur, quick." Alron and Freya hurried to assist Alron's mother. With Alron's mother leading the way, they started walking again, the horse and its rider following suit. The snow continued to fall, and Alron's mother's candle lamp lit the path forward, guiding them to Pinechill and hopefully, help for the unconscious elf. The journey continued in silence, the only sound being that of their own footsteps and the occasional snorting of the horse. Alron's mother's lamp provided a warm, yellow glow that offered comfort against the cold night. Alron instinctively wrapped an arm around Freya's shoulders, pulling her closer to himself. With his other arm, he gently draped half of his coat over her, using the remaining portion to shield himself from the cold. Alron's mother, in the lead, glanced back at Alron and Freya just in time to see Alron envelope Freya in his coat, wrapping her in his warmth. A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips, touched by her son's protective act. Alron's gaze, however, remained fixated on the still-unconscious elf riding the horse ahead. As Alron studied the elf up close, he was struck by his regal appearance. The silk shirt the elf wore was a clear indicator of status, and there was an expensive elegance to his attire. However, Alron's eyes were drawn to the broken pieces of armor that covered the elf, made from a material he had never seen before. The malachite green material that composed the armor was unfamiliar to him. Alron, his arm still around Freya's neck, broke the silence between them, his voice thoughtful. "You think he came from some fight?" he asked, his eyes flicking over the unconscious elf, taking in the broken pieces of armor that covered him. Freya shrugged subtly, her head still resting against Alron's arm, a hint of a shiver still present in her body. "It's possible," she replied, her voice soft. "His armor seems to have seen some battle." As they continued walking, something suddenly caught Alron's eye. Something fell from the elf's hand, landing silently onto the pristine snow behind him. Alron's gaze darted back to the item on the ground, curiosity piqued. As they continued walking, something suddenly caught Alron's eye. Something fell from the elf's hand, landing silently onto the pristine snow behind him. Alron's gaze darted back to the item on the ground, curiosity piqued. Alron gently draped the remaining half of his coat over Freya, covering her completely, before he knelt down to retrieve what the elf had dropped. The snow beneath him was cold and powdery, but he paid it no mind as his attention was fixated on the object. Alron's fingers wrapped around it, finding it to be small but rough. He slowly lifted it from the snow, noticing that a small shard was conspicuously missing from its intricate design. The amulet, despite its broken state, held an air of mysterious importance. The amulet felt strangely warm in Alron's hands, and its dark green color shimmered in the soft glow of the nearby lamp. As his fingers traced the markings on it, Alron noticed the intricate carvings and etchings that adorned the amulet's surface, the carvings standing out in a contrasting golden black color. The amulet's outer texture was distinctly porous, reminiscent of a bone, adding to its enigma.
Alron, having observed the amulet closely, decided to keep it for now. He slipped it into his pocket, reasoning that he could return it to the elf once he woke up. Alron, with his half of the coat wrapped back around himself, continued walking alongside his mother and Freya. They resumed their journey towards their village, the rhythmic crunch of their footsteps against the snow the only sound in the frozen silence of the night. Freya, intrigued by Alron's discovery, asked about the amulet he had retrieved from the snow. "What was it?" she inquired.
Alron responded with a simple, "Some broken amulet," his tone betraying his lack of knowledge about the object's significance. However, he added, his voice reflective, "Might be important to him."  Alron's mother, who had remained quiet up until now, spoke up, her voice curious. "Let me see it." Alron, caught off guard for a moment, instinctively reached into his pocket and pulled out the amulet. He handed it to his mother, who accepted it and began inspecting it closely. Alron's mother, studying the amulet closely, noted aloud, "The etchings look like the ones on the old ruins." Her words brought a hint of excitement to Alron's expression, as he realized that there might be a connection between the amulet and some ancient ruins. Alron, intrigued by his mother's observation, was reminded of the old ruins under the valley. He interjected, "The ones beneath the Valley?" His question hung in the air.

Alron's mother, still examining the amulet, responded to Alron's question with a nod. "Yes, the ones beneath the valley," she confirmed. Her eyes flicked between Alron and Freya, a slight smile on her lips as she added, "The ones where you two used to play". Freya, her curiosity piqued, suggested to Alron, "Once he wakes up, ask him about the amulet." Alron's mother nodded in agreement and handed the amulet back to Alron, who tucked it into his pocket once again. As Alron, his mother, and Freya trekked through the snow-covered path along with the horse and unconscious elf, the faint glow of their humble village of the village began to appear in the distance. The village's flickering lights served as a beacon of warmth and comfort against the cold and dark of the night. The group quickened their pace, their tired bodies invigorated by the sight of their destination. The silence of their journey was punctuated by the occasional huff of the horse pulling the unconscious elf, who seemed to be stirring slightly in his sleep. Beor, having swapped into his familiar, slightly frayed attire, froze as he opened the door. Beor's eyes widened in surprise as he found an unconscious elf slumped over a majestic horse, flanked by Alron, their mother, and Freya. His expression shifted from confusion to concern as he took in the unexpected situation before him.

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