An attractive elf lady at the far end of the wooden table. She wore a long ivory dress woven from the finest elf silk, embroidered with silver ivy. A crystal broach, crafted in the shape of a leaf, held a long silk shawl over her shoulders like a cloak. On top of it sat long ebony hair which flowed from her head, where a tiara of ivy and flowers was woven into her hair and along the rim of her forehead. She was Rhoswen, fair maiden of the east and lady of Lletya. Many thousands of years ago, Rhoswen had been consort to Arweinydd during times of peace, but their responsibilities and ensuing war had pulled them apart leading the distant relationship to eventually fracture. It had been be argued that she was the elven aspect of Seren’s will; fair and gentle, but powerful beyond all measures.

Few in the elven realm wielded the power of the arcane, their magic being limited to the power solely held in Seren’s crystals. Of those which could, none wielded it to the extent to which Rhoswen was capable of. Her knowledge of the divine arts of natural magic allowed her to gaze past the borders of the elven realm and across the lands beyond, to pick the threads of fate woven by the gods and interpret the their temporal will, and the most peculiar of all, commune with the children of Seren without whispering a word. Her talents made her an indispensable advisor to Arweinydd, and it was her aide he sought from this convoy.

Their eyes locked across the room, the murmurs of elven quarrelling became distant. The room appeared to fall into utter silence. Then, like a sharpened blade, her voice cut the silence. Her tender tones bounced and echoed in his head, clear yet utterly distant.

“You seek my counsel. Ask it, and it is yours.”

“The Darian cannot deny him physical access to this realm, and the Arandar pass will not hold against his onslaught.” The great elf answered in a low but gentle tone.

“Your news is but confirmation of what I have already seen. Watching him from a far is difficult. He is shrouded in shadow; his presence, concealed from me. I see only fragments of what is and what has yet to come, like reflections from fractured crystal. Yet, I can feel his taint on the world. He will come, and it will be soon.”

“You must try to locate him”

“I cannot. I will not. Even the purity of the crystal bowl cannot stop his vile magic from flowing through. The longer I watch, the more susceptible I become. I will not be a vessel for his corrupt power.”

“Then come. Let me take you to the thawing spring. Maybe you can decipher what I cannot. I must know its relevance, I feel it is key to preventing the impending war.”

Sound returned to the room as she left his mind. The other elves were still locked in heated debate, oblivious to the conversation that just transpired. The elf lord rose from his seat, and the table fell to silence; each elf falling back into their chair, unwilling to interject their leader.

“I must attend alternative important matters. Bicker if you will, but you only waste precious time as it rapidly fades. Send word of what I have forewarned. We must be prepared for battle should the Faceless One come to claim these lands once more.”

As if in perfect unison all the elves, spare Rhoswen, nodded and acknowledged Arweinydd. He turned from his spot and marched to the door at the opposite end of the room. Rhoswen with elven grace stood and followed him as they departed the room, leaving the other elves to conduct their preparations for war. The two paced through the winding corridors of the citadel and out through the courtyard towards the main city gate. They remained silent along the travels, lost in thought and memories of the previous war … of their previous liaison.

They soon arrived at the forest wall. Once again it parted under Arweinydd’s command, offering passage to the small garden beyond. Rhoswen pushed forward of the large elf, and to the ancient tree sat in the centre of the clearing. The crystal pool had completely thawed, and clear water poured from the wound.

“The tree weeps once more.” Arweinydd called to Rhoswen.

She placed her hands into the pool. The water radiated a green hue around her hands which leaked and flowed to the distant edges like ink spreading in water. Soon the pool was ablaze in green light as the elf lady murmured silently to herself in elven song. At one side of the pool, thick beds of flowers and vegetation had grown, the tendrils of their roots creeping into the water, and at the other, the shores were devoid of life, blackened and barren like volcanic ash. Rhoswen, lost in a trance began to speak in a flanged tone. The two voices boomed, one held the familiar soft and tender tone of an elf, but the other was unrecognisable, spitting and hissing with abyssal tongue.

“I feel great energy in this spring. Two lives, intertwined and inseparable. Like the sun in the moon they are but reflections of the same facet. One of light and one of dark. Neither existing without the other.”

She quickly pulled her hands from the spring, the green hue rapidly fading from the water, and held them close to her chest, as if disgusted and terrified by what she just touched. She turned to Arweinydd, her face pale and her eyes drained.

“What did you see?” He questioned.

“You. Him. The great goddess and the empty god. You are all there. We are all there.”

“A premonition of events to come?”

“Of events that are. Seren and Zaros are bound, and so too are you and the Faceless One. A fine balance had been stirred during your conflict many centuries ago, only now has the equilibrium finally come to rest. I fear disruption of this balance could spell greater perils to come.” She said hesitantly.

“We must return to the city. Warn the others, and prevent what is to come.”