@Leotamer - Quill
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A gift from Ral… That was plausible. He had heard tales of the God of Treasure gifting the occasional, now legendary, relic to those mortals he favoured or wanted to meddle with. And the winter god had no trouble seeing how someone could favour the handsome figure straddling the mount behind him that he had turned to face. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Gerald,” he replied to the man’s introduction. At the subsequent compliment his ivory cheeks had a hint of blush as he replied with a sparkle of a smile. “You can call me Renvo, short for Renvontulet.”
He turned back to face shore and thought about the journey ahead. If they rode across the Northern Crown they’d still face the other barrier of impassable mountains above his sister’s realm. His only option was to ride across the frozen ocean even further north to circumvent the alpine terrain. He could thicken the sea ice at merely a thought and the horse would carry them to White Dawn within the day.
A screech drew him from his thoughts and he looked upward his voice carrying to the creature despite the ferocious winds. “Tell your creator that I’ll be there by nightfall. And he better have the entrance open because I don’t want to damage his precious Wall.” He watched the creature fly off, its direct route back to Cy'Lathak ultimately faster than their circuitous route.
As the god eased the steed into a trot, he shouted back to the figure behind him.
“I’m heading to White Dawn as I have a…” he hesitated,
“gathering to attend nearby. You can continue your search for this mystery artefact from there.” It saddened him that he would soon have to part from his companion but he could not risk exposing a mortal to the mind testing knowledge, reality unravelling logic and knife-edged madness of Cy’Lathak. He would part ways with the golden-eyed man at the Wall of Hlakth, but leave him with an enchanted wisp to guide him through the Lyssian Forest toward the growing civilisation of the White Dawn.
He wouldn’t be able to hear a reply even if Gerald gave him one as the steed galloped across the ice at supernatural speed. It would be a couple of hours before they reached landfall but, knowing that he would soon have to say goodbye, Sveiand did not want to talk anymore to the stranger for fear of his growing interest hindering a clean, clinical farewell – the goodbye being inevitable when the magical horse finally slowed when he reached the entrance to Iva’s realm.