Ah! thought Cyan Fortith as he spotted the beginnings of a village in the distance. At last, he had reached Estolad! The trek through the grasslands had been quite trying, especially for one his age. At that thought, the elderly man chuckled. What was a bit of exercise? He could walk all over the continent of Ea if the need arose. Perhaps he had gotten lax, laying around in Lomedor for so long. This visit to the small village would most certainly do him good. He was quite looking forward to seeing many of his old acquaintances again. How long had he been absent from the small town? At the least, surely a few months. It would be pleasant to catch up with all of them. What would be even more pleasant was to take a nice chair and rest his weary bones.

As the man wandered into the village, leaning on his staff, he took a deep sniff from he air, smiling at the homely scents that accompanied a small country village such as this one. Beasts roamed about lead by human tamers. Horses, sheep, and cows were a common sight in the village. As a group of mounted men passed by him on their beasts of burden, they inclined their heads respectably to the old man, which he returned in kind. Children ran across his path, causing him to stop often to prevent running into them. A few of them stared at his wizened face, wondering just who this old man could be.

"Hey, everyone, it's Cyan!"

The former soldier turned around the look for he source of the shout. A young boy was standing close by behind him, his eyes twinkling excitedly. Many children were soon gathered around, shouting out questions for the old man to answer.

"Have you seen any orcs?"
"Is it true there's a war in space?"
"Where'd you come from? Did you go on a bunch of adventures?"

Cyan laughed at this verbal onslaught, holding up both hands to forestall the questions. "My, my, aren't you all the inquisitive lot!" he exclaimed, smiling.

"Tell us about the world, Cyan!"

"The world?" Cyan repeated, his eyes going distant. He sat down right there, on the bare earth, to begin the telling of his tale.

"Ah, the world! The world is a remarkably mysterious place, more so than any of you, or myself for that matter, could possibly imagine. So many mysteries, so much unknown. The earth seems to like holding it's secrets, and one who does not know where to look for them will forever be at a loss. My only advice to you children is to listen to the wind. The wind is the world's voice, alive and flowing and beautiful. Listen to it carefully, and you will hear. Hear of pain and triumph and joy and sorrow...and so, so very much more. It is from the world that one learns about the world, see. Those without ears will never know the truth."

The children, unsurprisingly, did not understand this one bit. A few of them cocked their heads to one side, as if hoping to hear some ethereal voice speaking out of the gentle breeze that was blowing that day. Another said, obviously trying to be patient, "Yes, but what is happening?"

"Ah-hah-hah!" Cyan exclaimed, looking over the youth with a critical, yet twinkling, eye. "Are you not satisfied?" The young boy frowned, clearly contemplating what to say.

"Very well, I shall tell you what I do know to be true," Cyan said, taking upon his face a vague look. "We are at a critical time in the history of Arda. Evil does grow, spread, and influence. Those who do not keep their wits about them find themselves falling into their power. Much of the higher power that keeps our world alight has deteriorated. Two guardians have recently fallen out of power. But man has decided that they can fight for themselves. Many armies and organizations combat the darkness, and they do prevail. This is an era of danger, but also of courage and bravery."

Having finished with his words, Cyan stood up, leaning on his staff to help him on his ascent. Then, leaving the children behind to ponder his words, he continued down the street, wondering what the rest of the day had in store for him. Perhaps he would visit his niece? It would be a while before she returned from her work. Nevertheless, he began to head in the direction of her home, his keen eyes peering about as he walked, scanning the faces of all those who walked by him.

Artrius heaved, tossing the last bale of hay over his shoulder and into the cart that sat waiting. The horse that was harnessed to the cart snorted as the hay caused it to destabilize, but it calmed down before Artrius was forced to chase it down like he had at least five times today. Releasing a sigh, Artrius dropped his pitchfork against the side of the cart and took a seat against a tree, taking a sip of water from a flask the farm owner had lent him.

The past two days had been filled with hard work. Artrius had arrived in Estolad three days ago, and spent the first day exploring the town and finding a place he could work. After he met Owen, the farm owner, Artrius had arranged a place to sleep and some pieces of silver in exchange for a few days honest work. Owen had promised that Artrius would have a place to stay as long as he was willing to work, but already Artrius was getting bored. He had made enough money to tide him over for a little while, and he had already decided to move on, because he couldn't find what he was looking for in this town.

As he rested, Artrius watched the road next to the farm, which was nearly empty at this time of day. A lone man walked towards the town, and as he approached, he was surrounded by a group of children. Artrius head them asking for a story, and the man obliged. The wind carried the words of what the man said to Artrius, and he smiled at what he heard. This man appeared to know a great deal about the world, and Artrius resolved to find him after he was done work.

Stiffly, Artrius stood, muscles sore from exertion. He moved towards the cart horse, who huffed in irritation. Ignoring the beasts mannerisms, Artrius led it towards the barn. He unloaded the cart and unharnessed the horse, making sure that it was properly stabled before heading towards the farmhouse. He entered the back door, and, seeing no sign of Owen, left his flask on the table. Artrius grabbed his things, putting on a shirt and tightening his sword belt. He stepped out of the front door and set off down the lane way into the town.

"Hey! Artrius!" came a voice from behind. Artrius turned and saw Owen on the porch. "Nice work you did today. Am I gonna see you tomorrow?"

Artrius grinned. "Now that would depend on whether your eyes are still working tomorrow, old man!" Owen laughed, drawing back his arm and throwing something at Artrius. He caught it, hearing the jingle of coins as he did so.

"I hope I do, but just in case I don't, there's the money I owe you, and a little more for the road. Keep safe Artrius."

Frowning, Artrius held the money pouch. "I don't need any extra."

The old farmer laughed again. "Everybody needs a little extra. Keep it, you did good, and you deserve it."

Artrius smiled. "Thank you, old man. Good luck on the harvest." He waved, and Owen waved back. Artrius turned and resumed his trek down the lane. He wondered how he would find the man from earlier, and if he would be any help. His excitement grew, and he unconsciously picked up his pace into town. He had never been this close before, and he was thrilled.

As he entered the main town, he began to slow, wondering how he would find the man. He looked around town, and his luck held. He spotted the man approaching, surrounded by a gaggle of children. The man appeared to be friendly with a great deal of people in the town. As he watched, Artrius began to see something familiar, something he couldn't quite place. Then he got it. The man walked like a soldier, like his father did. That gave Artrius pause. Would this man be like his father? Artrius didn't think so. There was something wiser, something different about this man. Making his decision, Artrius approached.

"Good afternoon, sir. I was working at the Owen farm today as you passed by, and I heard you speak of events in the world. I'd like to hear more of your stories, if you don't mind. I'll buy you a drink. What do you say?"