It was dark and cold, colder than the winter season as the lone warrior made his way out of the burning kingdom. Hurriedly he ran with his hand covering his upper left shoulder, he stumbled and fell along the way... he ran until he could no more.
Exhausted he fell into the ravine, covered in deep snow---
"Winter Iris!!! Find the spear mountains!!! Go!!!"
It was the king's voice, loud and clear... The warrior awakened, the scent of the candle was in the air and the sound of the cracking firewood burned. His upper torso was naked, his wound attended to, he tried to look around for his benefactor but his head started spinning.
"Rest a while." said the voice almost in a melodious tone. "Fear not... Here is safe, nobody will come looking for you."
As the warrior fell asleep, the being walked across the room and prepared bread and soup made of greens, it stirred the pot and sang an ancient song.
~Archatel awake! Your doom is near, there in the heart of the mountain a sword shall rise, your reign shall end. Winter's deep, irises bloom... beware the eyes that slumbers deep! Hold fast your heart, lest it shall leap---
"You're awake?" it said. "Eat."
The warrior sat up heaving as he adjusted to the light in the cabin, he behold a ladylike creature. It has the body of a woman but it glides like a spirit, its skin was pale but glistening like silver.
"Thank you." said he. "Forgive me but are you a Mystic?"
The creature glides slowly and tilts its head, "No... We are what they called Gyros." It replied and blinked, its eyes are like thousand stars.
"You're a woman?" he asked. "Do you have a name?"
"Yes." she replied and handed him bread. "Name doesn't matter to us."
"I'll call you Silver, That song you are singing... I am from the rivers of Archatel, I don't know if some of our people survived but my King in his last breath asked me to find the winter Iris and the spear mountains."
Silver smiled and looked at a distance, "I am but a spirit confined to this place... I never heard of what you speak of. Still if you must search, heal first and gather yourself... your journey has not yet begun---
then as the Gyros was speaking its eyes turn blueish green:
"This path your heart has chosen has its perils right and left, if you should turn back from this quest a life be spare..."
then the creature vanished into the night, the warrior was left wondering what those words meant.
-A life be spared-
For three days the warrior stayed and waited for Silver to comeback but she never came. And so he set out on a journey, disguising his sword and strapping it on his back. Then he looked back to the sanctuary that protected him but even that vanished as if it never existed, he was surrounded with a vast Forrest and not far he hears the howling of wolves.
"My king, blessed my journey and guide me from your resting place... let the spirits of Archatel river lead me... that your soul find peace."
The cold wind blows and his steps were covered by the falling snow...
~Beware the eyes that slumbers deep...
the sound of the flute can be heart, the tune sends chills to the warrior's spine and even the trees shudders and the wolves hushed their howling, the moon was blood and there seem to be a looming darkness. But he can't tell where but a warrior's senses never lie.
Then he heard a branch snapped, he started swinging his sword, they fought... he was not giving up not today.
"Aragon!" the stranger said with force but almost in a whisper. "it's me."
"Tahlo?" he asked still holding the sword aggressively.
The latter removed the scarf covering his face and Aragon smiled and embraced his friend.
"A silver mist led me here." Tahlo replied.
~Winter's deep... Irises bloom...