The mountains of Zena loomed in the distance, their whitepeaks kissing the gray skies above. It was another snow filled day, the gentle flakes drifting down in slow spirals across the landscape. A crackling fire broke through the silence of the evening and in front of the dancing flames sat a lone figure. Evening already. Letting out a soft sigh, Tryston leaned forward from his perch and studied the flickering flames. It was one of those nights when he felt somber and reflective, courtesy of the heavy drinking that his brothers had partaken in earlier this night. He had only partook in a few drinks himself but it was enough to make him nostalgic.

The past five years had been a rollercoaster for the iceling man. He had finally returned to Zena after finding corruption in the brotherhood of warriors, he had lost and found love only to say goodbye to her again, restored the brotherhood, fought against monsters of legend, and now he was a captain to the band of warriors who roamed Zena. Tryston glanced down at his hands with a small smile. Who knew that he would be taking on so much responsibility like this? At least things finally seemed peaceful again. It had taken a lot of fighting and some losses but eventually they had chased out those who wanted to do harm to others for selfish indulgences. With Serana’s help the village was thriving again while Tryston helped to rebuild and recruit new comrades to protect the village. Not even bandits dared to threaten the mountain pass that led to his home village now.

I just hope that I did Lyrie proud. A sad smile crossed his features as he thought of his adoptive father. During the clash against Byrone the older iceling man had been severely injured and vanished into the snows. When they burned the funeral pyre for those lost in the fighting, Tryston had included his father’s cloak as a symbol of the brave man. If Lyre was alive then surely he would have found him by now. The thought sent a pain through his chest despite the faint flicker of hope that refused to completely go away. Almost a whole year he spent sending scouts out looking for Lyre until eventually they had simply stopped looking. If his father was alive then he would find them once he recovered completely. It was the only choice they had when they were forced to leave Zena to help with the battle against the Dretch. Tryston dropped his gaze once more to study a faded scar that cut across his palm. He had caught a blade in that hand, the sharp steel cutting through his thick leather gloves, and his right palm still stung at the memory of the injury.

He had hoped that after the battle he could have made a stop in Tale. The chaos after the battle had only allowed him a quick glimpse towards the leafling village. He had spotted Constynce for a brief moment before being pulled away again by his comrades. Even today two years later the thought of her made his heart ache. He had sent her letters but had never received any response. His companions had told him to forget about the leaf woman because surely that meant she had moved on.

Hadn’t she been with someone else before? Why do you think she would wait around now?

She should have stayed with you in Zena if she truly wanted to be with you.

No word? Sorry mate. That’s definitely a sign of another lover.

“I refuse.” He admitted to the flickering flames of the fire. Tryston had worked harder than ever the last year to try and forget his affections for the girl but even now she still lingered in his mind. The drink did nothing to help him as it simply reminded him of his longing and how he had missed her the last two years. While he missed her like this did she even remember him? Had she moved on and married another man?

Just the thought made Tryston raise the leather flask to his lips. Taking a swig of the strong drink, the iceling man wiped his lips dry before tossing the empty flask onto the snow covered ground. He didn’t want to accept that she had moved on, but why had he not heard from her? Certainly he had been busy with paperwork and helping to train new warriors these last two years but even he had managed to send a letter once every moon or so until finally the letters slowed down to one in the last six months. Why hadn’t she sent him anything? Tryston pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration at the thought.

“Captain?” A voice from one of the tents gained the iceling's attention, “Why are you still out here?”

Blinking Tryston glanced over, “Ah. I suppose I got caught up in my thoughts.” Standing the iceling man brushed off his leathers and moved to walk past his companion, “The rest are sleeping now, correct?”

“Yes. They may have drunk a bit too much tonight.”

Tryston let out a quiet laugh, “It’s fine. They’ve worked hard the past few days. It’s good to let them relax.”

Now if only he could do the same.

[WC: 895]