The Journey North

From Atlantic Roleplay Wiki

Title: The Journey North

Author: a scholar

King Lucean and Falamar laughed amongst themselves as they saddled their horses.

Perhaps they laughed to forget the uneasy feeling both felt about the path before them. Or perhaps the lack of sleep had made merry their troubled minds with delusion. One thing was for certain, the second sun had begun to rise, and it was as red as King Luceans past.

"Red suns bring red nights." King Lucean was suddenly somber, "We must make through the Northern Forests by eve."

Falamar raised an eyebrow.

"Giants my Lord? The barbarians have long long since slain the last of them."

King Lucean stared off, his thoughts as far away as their destination.

Falamar surveyed his king for a moment before continuing.

"Speaking of the barbarians my king.." He hesitated, "You know as well as I we may have to.."

King Lucean turned slowly toward Falamar, they turned away again, staring off again as if to see into the future.

They both shivered a cold tingle down their spines. Lucean knew Falamars mind, he didn't need finish, the two set off North, toward the ice and snow, and the great dark forest.

By night fall Lucean and Falamar had reached the foothills of the Valafost Mountains. They took up camp in a grove of particularly large Yew trees. Both knew that not long after they passed the mountains they would be in the realm of the northern tribes. With little to cover them ahead but the knotty thin pines, they were thankful for the nights shelter.

Falamar managed to set an arrow to a hare, it had been years since his bow had been strung, but he didn't miss a stride. He raised a spit as they had no pots or skillets, their journey was far to dangerous to be burdened with the extra weight.

After their stomachs were full Lucean rested his head down on a moss covered rock, taking a few sips from the leather goatskin around his neck. He passed the skin to Falamar with a smile, and felt a sense of peace come over him. Lucean started to drift off but was caught in the twilight of slumber by a gently humming. He kept his eyes closed but listened to the tune, Falamar knew it well, as did all the children of Atafar. A gentle but haunting tune that would never leave you. Falamar began into the verses, Lucean kept shut his eyes, listening.

"Son of Trolls, Born of Frost, Child of Wolves, Forever Lost.

He wanders near, he journeys far, amongst the trees of Atafar.

Ice and Snow are his past, winter and darkness eternal last.

His presence felt by biting cold, forgotten curses, from times of old.

Abandoned by those who knew him dear, damned by all instilled with fear.

Blade in hand, a crown of horns, fate entangled by the Norns.

His time will come, out of the dole's, will rise again the son of trolls.

Darkness will fall, and ice will reign, when the scorned one returns again.

As Falamar sung the final verses Lucean slipped into a deep sleep. His dreams that night would be dark, and by morning the first frost had fallen.