He had never seen beauty. All that he had ever seen had been ugly. It had been mutated, deformed. Never had he seen true beauty, in its purest form. Everything else had been an illusion or a monstrosity. Buildings, they seemed to be foolish. Towers was merely man's attempt to imitate the beauty of the trees. Streets were built like serpents, unreliable and strange, to imitate rivers. So he felt. This was truly the most beautiful place he had ever seen. The stars of the night paled and the city of Kaydeir seemed like a giant slum in comparison to this heavenly garden. The grass embraced him, softly stroking him as they moved with the winds. Utter silence seemed to rule here, utter. This was strange, for he had never heard utter silence, for always there was a source of sound, but now.. nothing. But even this paled in comparison to the song of the Mother.
He had heard the song of the Mother, a pure voice singing perhaps the truest, saddest and most beautiful song that has ever been, is, and shall be. He almost wept as he heard the song, out of sadness, for he knew he had to leave Her. He had felt the tears in his eyes, but as they were about to stream down, the Mother had reassured him, embraced him and cradled him. He had never wanted to leave her embrace, but he had been forced to awaken in this garden, beautiful, though it could not replace Her embrace, no, it could not. It could not.
And now he looked upon a man before him. His eyes, as black as the night. He was only slightly the lesser of Iregar, still far greater than him, still a giant, towering above him. Leaves covered his body and a falcon flew behind him, using its wings to caress the man's shoulder, a guardian spirit, it seemed. The silence was gone, broken, though he felt no rage, he felt tranquility, moreso than before in the stone room. It took him a while to realize that the man was speaking to him, asking him why Azshiir had sought him out, though adressing him as Lifemaker. Perhaps he was.
He stumbled over his words before he could formulate a proper answer. He was speaking to the Archdruid.. how should he speak to him? Though, the stress disappeared and the words glided over his tongue, such was the magic of this place. It made all worries disappear, everything. All worries.. disappeared. There was only calm.
''I have come to ask you a question, Archdruid.'' he said, his voice relaxed, though full of respect for the man, respect that no other man had ever gotten from Azshiir. He was silent for a few moments before he continued;
''Why are the Fey hunting the Wildmen, oh, Archdruid?'' he asked, remembering what Kvilde and Iregar had told him.
