As Eric, Lady Ellara, and Lady Feywood arrived at the edges of the serene ritual glen, they spied an elder elven woman with flowing silver hair already waiting patiently riverside on the grassy banks overlooking the glassy pool at the glen's heart.
Her voluminous sage green robes were intricately embroidered around the sleeves and hem with archaic symbols of power likely only still recognized by the highest-ranking magic practitioners in the kingdom.
Though deep wrinkles lined her aged face and hands like permanently etched runes, hinting at many decades if not centuries of life experience, the elf's piercing seafoam eyes were still bright and keen with alertness. An aura of wisdom and capability surround her that demanded unquestioning respect.
"High Priestess Nyfiel, it brings me such joy to see you again, my old friend," Lady Feywood greeted the elder elf warmly, bowing low in a display of deep reverence. "It has been entirely too many long years since last we crossed paths."
The High Priestess smiled kindly in return, clasping her hands together in a meditative gesture as she gave Lady Feywood a thorough visual appraisal, taking stock of how the years had changed her former pupil.
"Indeed, your absence from my sanctum has been keenly felt," the priestess acknowledged in her thin, musical voice that resembled the delicate tones of a reed flute. "But what propitious occasion brings you, your daughter, and this young one to my isolated corner of the wilds this fair morn?"
Lady Feywood gave Eric's narrow shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze before speaking. "On behalf of my grandson here, Eric Emberhart, I have come to humbly request that you oversee the traditional Elven Awakening ritual for him. I believe the time is right for his nascent gifts to be unveiled and properly guided forth."
The High Priestess pressed her lips together thoughtfully and gave a slow nod of consideration as she inspected young Eric with her piercing hawk-like gaze that seemed to cut straight through to his core, laying his essence bare before her third eye's vision.
After a long, contemplative silence, the priestess finally proclaimed, "I do sense reservoirs of promising, fertile magical potential flowing yet largely untapped within this human child blessed with our people's noble lineage."
Her expression became resolved and officious. "We shall allow the guiding spirits themselves to reveal in time the role he is to play in fate's tapestry. For now, I deem this rite of passage appropriate. Let us commence without delay."
Beckoning Eric forward, High Priestess Nyfiel pressed a loosely wrapped bundle of slowly smoldering aromatic herbs into the boy's upturned palm. Their heady incense perfumed the still forest air.
"Bear this to the sacred riverstone at the glen's heart and kindle its embers to awakening. Meditate deeply amidst the whispers of our ancestors, and the true answers you seek shall organically emerge in due time if you have the patience and wisdom to listen, young one," the priestess intoned.
Eric nodded seriously and approached the mammoth weathered monolith she indicated, his loyal black hound Shadow padding along at his heels to provide silent reassurance and support. With tentative fingers, the boy carefully ignited the fragrant incense bundle in his hands using the flickering tongue of flame already dancing atop the ancient stone's surface.
As curling tendrils of scented smoke began lifting toward the boughs of the great trees encircling the glen, Eric settled himself into a meditative pose on the spongy emerald moss nestled between twisting gnarled roots at the base of the runestone.
His journey inward was about to commence...