Zeleniec

***

<< Day 10 - Evening >>

The man had camped in a cave a few hours from Whiteriver Warren. His trek cross-country had been a slow process, but he had done it by himself. He stayed clear of traveling caravans and sought help from no one. It was not that he was an unsociable man, it was simply that he found it easier to be alone then with people these days.

His hair was long, and unkempt, and he had a heavy beard, both his beard and his hair were streaked with grey. He was thin. Far to thin most people he ran into thought, and they went out of their way to try and fatten him up. He simply wanted to be left along, so he kept off the main roads and avoided people.

Unfortunately his hermit lifestyle had changed nearly two weeks ago when he had come upon a sight that had wrenched his heart and driven him to head to the closest Warren .. Whiteriver. It was getting late before he found the courage to leave his cave and head to the Warren.

He cringed away from the stares he always seemed to get, but kept going through the traveler's gate and into the heart of activity, which seemed excessive for this time of the evening. He had been to Whiteriver before, though not often, thought it still took very little time for him to head in the direction he needed to go.

The warren was packed. He could tell from snippets of conversation that he heard that the Queens, both senior and junior had just laid their eggs. And as if that were not amazing in and of itself, he also became privy to the news that a metallic egg had been laid. That would give the small warren of Whiteriver three queens. It was unusual to be sure, but a good sign of luck for Warren.

There was also talk of trouble .. something about a young girl being attacked. There were talks going on between the Warrenfolk and the Landbound. He felt sorry for the Warrenlady in that task.

There was still a bit of a celebration going on in the dining hall from the laying, as could be expected after such a lucky event, and as much as he hated to head that way, he knew that that would be the most likely place to find the lady he looked for.

"Pardon me," his rarely used voice cracked a bit, and the young man turned to look at him.

Zeleniec was used to the disquieted stare, and he swallowed hard, "I must speak to your Warrenlady .. and perhaps the Wingleader as well."

"I am the Beta Wingleader," the man held out his hand, "I am J'red."

"I am called Zeleniec, Rider J'red," he cleared his throat, but did not take the man's extended hand. "I need to speak to Warrenlady Merissa."

"We're having a bit of party to celebrate the laying of our queen's eggs, perhaps you'd like to come in and have a bite to eat, and speak with her later. We have food and drink and music."

Zeleniec shook his head, taking a step back. "I'd .. rather not. This is important. It has to do with a .. a former Warrenlady."

J'red's eyes narrowed, "A warrenlady of Whiteriver?"

Zeleniec shook his head sharply, "No. Please could you ask Warrenlady Merissa to see me. Please out here .. away from the crowd. You are welcome to join us if you are worried."

J'red studied the man for a moment. He was so thin, he hardly was an imposing sight, though he did have a touch of wildness about him. Still his eyes seemed honest and it would be best to leave it to Merissa to decide. Finally he nodded, "I'll get her. You can wait over there." He motioned toward a bench sitting beneath a shade tree. The older, thin man nodded ad moved with graceful ease, despite his appearance, to sit on the bench.

Issabol

***

"Issy! Did you hear! The Queens laid their eggs today!"

Issabol looked up and smiled at her young sister as she ran into the house. "Yes, Polly, sweetie. I heard."

"I wish we could have gone Issy .. It's just not fair! I miss everything!" Polly was nine and loved everything about dragons. Issabol motioned her to come closer and she wrapped her arms around the girl.

"Someday, sweetie, I will have time to take you."

"Promise?"

"Of course, have I ever broken a promise to you?"

Polly beamed, "Never!" She hugged her much older sister tightly before running off sing-songing, "Daddy, Issy's gonna take me .. Issy's gonna take me."

Issabol sighed. She was a tall, thin, rather average looking young woman of 21 years. She had dark blonde hair that got much darker in the winter months when she could not be outside as often to tend her garden. Her light brown eyes spoke of a quiet charisma and friendliness. She and her father, a dirt farmer in the northern part of Whiteriver territory, her brother, Joren, and Polly lived together in what could barely be called a village named by it's inhabitants as Rock's Point. It was mostly a group of small time farmers who worked hard to make a living for themselves and their families on the dry plains, which marked the road from Whiteriver to Tinobol in Keldarra's territory. The name itself came from the single rock formation, which stuck out in the middle of all these rich fertile fields. A natural cave in the rock, large enough to hold a small inn, was their central meeting area, though to be fair it was seldom used but by it's owners and travelers to the area. Most of the other inhabitants of Rock's Point stayed in their own little homes spread out around the rock. The had gatherings once in a while to mingle and trade, but mostly kept to themselves.

Issabol had been much like her little sister and dreamed of one day going to the warren. She had intended on being a dragonrider. How exciting and glamorous that life seemed. But when she was 12 years old, her mother had died in childbirth leaving no one to care for young Polly. Joren, only her junior by 10 and half months, had learned to help their father in the fields, and Issy had taken care of the new baby.

Landon Wilton trod heavily up the three steps that lead to the porch of their home. Issabol could hear her father coming and knew he was going to look at her with heavy raised eyebrows as he opened the door. Sure enough her father's grey-brown eyes did just that, "Issabol? What did you promise your sister?"

Issabol smiled indulgently at her father, "I promised to take her to the Warren, Daddy. And I will, maybe even in time for the next hatching."

"That's an awfully long trip, and I need you here."

"Well, I've been thinking about that. With Joren and Cybele getting married in less then two weeks, you won't need me as much .. especially if I take Polly with me. Cybele can keep the house up, and feed you both. And Daddy, we wouldn't be gone long .. a couple of weeks at the most." Issabol knew she was pleading, but she had taken a lot of time and thought about this. It would be her first chance to see the warren that she had dreamed so much about. "After all, the hatching won't be for a couple of months, the eggs were just laid. That's plenty of time for Cybele to get settled in. The extension to the house is nearly complete. It will be in time for the wedding. And you know how much Polly wants to go .."

Landon sighed, "I know how much you want to go."

Issabol smile broadly at him, "I do. I always have."

He nodded, "We'll see how things go once your brother and his new wife are settled in."

Issabol nodded happily. It wasn't final, but she knew it soon would be. The decision had been made. Cybele was the daughter of a neighboring family in Rock's Point. The match had been expected since the two were small. There had been no other boys their age and few other girls. Issabol, had it not been for the death of her mother, would most likely have been sent to live with relatives in Tilharnon to find herself a husband, despite the fact that she really felt no need for a husband. What she wanted more then anything was to go and live in the Warren. With the addition of Cybele to their family, she could almost feel that her dream might actually happen, though she was sure her father would suggest she go to Tilharnon first.

Still who knew what the future might bring ..

Zeleniec

***

Merissa studied the man sitting on the bench as she approached him. He could see her coming, but tried not to appear as though he was watching her. It wasn't likely that she would recognize him. He knew he no longer much resembled the man he had used to be.

"Welcome to Whiteriver," her voice was as musical as he remembered, "J'red told me you had something you needed to discuss with me?"

Zeleniec looked up at her and nodded. Was that a flash of recognition he saw? He couldn't be sure. He took a deep breath, and spoke in his gravely seldom used voice. "I bring sad news regarding the former Warrenlady of Marrid Warren."

"Waylene?" Merissa asked. She had met the Warrenlady of the nearby warren on a couple of occasions before Marrid's boundaries had been breached by pockets of non-magic and the warren proper abandoned due to the danger to the dragons. "I had heard she was in Xylian Warren, across the wastes?"

Zeleniec shrugged, "I don't know about that, but I can tell you.. I don't think she's there now."

"Who are you?" Merissa asked. "Have we met?"

"I am called Zeleniec," the man told her not answering her second question, "I live in Marrid territory still. I helped to protect those that the dragons can no longer protect, because the magic there is gone. There are few that live there now, most have moved to safer regions. However, I continue to travel the more uninhabitable portions. About two weeks ago, I journeyed back to the warren proper to make rounds .. so to speak." His eyes clouded with pain and he looked down from her face, "I came upon .. the body .."

"Waylene's?" Merissa asked in horror.

He shook his head, "No .. thank the gods .. for that would have been more then I could bear. I came upon the body of Aura, her dragon. She .. she had been dead for only a couple of days as far as I could tell. Her golden glow .. was gone, but there was no mistaking that it was her."

"Zeleniec?" Merissa asked, drawing his eyes back to hers, "You are .. you were .. her mate? Waylene's mate?"

The man nodded. The Warrenlady had indeed made the connection. He had been Z'lec of Marrid. His own dragon had been killed before the pockets formed, and he and Waylene had gone their separate ways. But he had stayed close to the place he'd called home for so long .. even after the catastrophic changes that had displaced the warren. "I am called Zeleniec now. It is who I have become."

Merissa nodded solemnly. "Can I offer you Whiteriver's hospitality?"

Zeleniec nodded, "I could use a quiet place to rest for the night."

Merissa smiled gently, "J'red will help you with that. I need to consider what you have told me."

Regards,

Zeleniec

Issabol

***
NRPG: I have stuff to write for Th'rin and will get to it soon, but this has been knocking around in my head for a while :)