Adventure of Yllamaris 1

The fields go still as the cold arrives. Yllamaris feels the darkness thicken around the grass, and the Elder flickers into view on the horizon like a weak flame in a storm.

He does not meet Yllamaris with anger. He simply raises one trembling hand and points past the fields, toward something far beyond the wall.

A shape moves low through the grass, then rises with a wet scrape of leather and iron. A gray-cloaked guard steps from the dark, blade half-drawn, eyes fixed on Yllamaris and the wavering Elder.

He advances with careful footing, using the cold wind to mask his approach. The Elder fades and returns in uneven pulses, but the guard keeps coming, intent on closing the distance before either shadow can slip away.

Yllamaris lets the guard see only retreat. He turns from the grass, shoulders low, and walks off into the dark fields as if the cold itself has chosen the wrong target.

The guard slows, then does not follow. His blade lifts a little, but his feet stay rooted at the grass edge while Yllamaris keeps moving.

The Elder flickers harder on the horizon, his gaze cutting past both of them toward the far black of the plain. Elowen is no longer at the wall, only a faint trace of her presence in the cold air.

He does not look back. The guard’s suspicion breaks on the empty distance, and for a breath the field seems to accept Yllamaris as just another shadow moving through it.