Snippet #2061355

Arion had reached Terola. His hopes of protecting the last of the Four from a frost mage attack had been destroyed as he came across the body of the first two magi, knocked back a few yards from the third. He inspected the bodies, seeing the tears in their clothing. Walking to the next body, he looked up to see Naveah turning and leaving.

This boy was his favourite by far- he was more reserved than the others and like Arion himself. If he had a purpose, he seemed to stick to it as the elf had observed in the past few days as he traversed Calor in search of the Four. He knew he had an interesting hero in his hands, but variety was good wasn't it?

"Naveah," the elf called gently while walking towards him. "You look as if you've lost something." The elf stopped and looked the boy directly in the eyes. "Of course, not all lost things are found. But which do we remember more- what is lost or what is found?"