Evermoure

Into the Cold Fire

For a week, the company of Enphyra and the Brothers of Brax ascended north, the Ivory Peaks growing ever-closer with each passing day. The weather was mostly fair, and the nights remained increasingly frigid. The group took their refuge in the highest peaks of the Chasm cliffs, camping in summits only accessible to their winged birds, for safety. Eventually, they climbed out of the Cliffs of Ire, out of the Chasm. Topographically, they were soaring over a plateau from there, the last stretch of geography that lay between the Chasm and the Ivory Peaks. It took longer than the company expected to cross the mesa, for they began to only travel under the cover of clouds and night. In time, the brothers of Brax delivered the Lae Elf to the border of the Northern Kingdom, the Ivory Peaks. They parted from each other beside the towering heights of the range, and the brothers bade her all the good fortune they could, reluctant even in duty to leave their future queen. On the night of their departure from her company, they revealed that the Mountain Hawk was a gift, not a loan, which Enphyra took joy in, even in their situation. Before the brothers left, she named him Roan’Thil, after a great and powerful High Elf hero and king of legend. After the brothers departed, Enphyra was warmed by the thought that she would not have to part from Roan as well when her task was complete. She felt a bond forming with the Mountain Hawk, whom had seemed to begin growing a sense of loyalty toward her.

Secrecy of her presence within the Ivory Peaks was key. With the transporter packed safely and securely in Roan’s saddlebags, Enphyra flew as high as the oxygen allowed, staying within the clouds and using a compass to guide her.

The nights in the Northern Kingdom were treacherously cold. Snow covered everything, and it stormed for the majority of the journey. When Enphyra and her Mountain Hawk stopped to rest, Roan would bundle himself down into a ball of his own feathers, with the Lae Elf tucked into the warmth of his wing.

As confident as Enphyra had been in all her training and briefing, there was always a flutter of anxiety in the pit of her stomach as she and her Mountain Hawk neared the Tower of the Damned. She used the Shroud of Ghaela to conceal herself and Roan quite often, as they passed above more and more villages, barracks, and outposts of armies. Nothing was beautiful this far north, beside the mountains. Everything was cold, dead, and hard. It was a wonder anyone lived here, but it promised great hardiness from the inhabitants.

Before she knew it, her coordinates told her she was there, and as Roan’Thil banked left around a rise, the Dark Spire was a scar of cold black stone against the Ivory Peaks. She held onto her Mountain Hawk very tightly as she sustained the Shroud of Ghaela with strong focus. Smoke drifted from the city in the valley below the tower, to be swept away in the harsh mountain wind as it rose. The city was tucked against a sheer cliff at the far end of the valley, and the black tower of the Northern King rose against the wall of rock.

Roan was uneasy beneath her, flying so exposed over the wide, open valley. He wasn’t aware of their concealment Leaning forward against his back, Enphyra whispered low words to soothe him as they soared high above the city that very few Lae’Yerans had ever laid eyes on. It was industrious, military-based. The sight of the massive tower looming above it sent a piercing chill through her.

She led her Mountain Hawk steadily up toward the top of the sheer cliff that the tower was built into, and spent a while searching its peaks for a cave. When she found a sufficient one, she led Roan’Thil deep within it, and fed him every ounce of food she had left in her bags. He would need all the strength possible to make the mad-dash out of the most dangerous part of the Northern Kingdom. She wished so much that there was a way to bring him back through the activated transporter with her, but that was only a dream-like thought.

Unlatching his saddle, Enphyra removed it from his back to give him no restrictions in flight. He made soft, high-pitched calls as she stroked the soft feathers on his great breast with thickly-gloved hands, his golden eyes blinking rapidly in the way that birds do. Clacking his beak, he nudged her like he normally does.

“Fly strong and safe once I leave,” she whispered into his feathers, “I’ll be in Lae’Yera waiting for you.” She murmuring strong words in old elvish, the dead language of the people of his namesake.

With the farewells said, Enphyra led Roan’Thil to the mouth of the cave under the Shroud of Ghaela. She had chosen one that faced away from the city, on the other side of the huge cliff that the tower was built into. Pausing to gently pluck a great feather from the Mountain Hawk, she urged him to fly. Obedient, the powerful bird took off in a spread of wings and feathers, away from the city and the tower. His instincts were acute. He would keep himself out of harm’s way.

After fastening the plumage onto the belt of Ethera’s sheath, Enphyra secured the bag with the transporter on her person, and emerged into the cold Far North under the Shroud of Ghaela. She traversed the snowy rise, toward the tower and a parapet she had sighted. Avoiding the view of the head-spinning height, she hopped down onto the stone walkway that was built into the sloping mountain. Enphyra kept her feel light as she moved toward an archway, into the tower. Once inside, she made the longest, most harrowing journey of her life past guards, soldiers, maids, and servants. She was searching for a secluded part of the tower, somewhere she could stow the transportation device with little notice of its presence.