Within the twilight sky, the moon shone its pearlescent light down upon the kneeling Isldar with his hands resting on the pommel of the blade he had driven into the cold earth beneath him. From his stance, the man slowly rose to a stand, eyes lingering on the crystalline tombstone for a few moments but for him, it felt like hours. Silver turned hesitantly, casting his gaze back over his shoulder to take one more glance at the resting site of his brother before trudging off toward the rest of Ellador. The wind around him picking up and throwing snow upon him fully masking his form as he disappeared. Silver is next seen walking the trails of Ellador, meandering slowly through the frost-covered streets. His eyes wandered over the scenery whilst searching for his home, the place he was raised, learned how to fight, write, talk. Everything. The Warden started scouring the building and his deepest memories in hopes of remembering the way. His breath starting to quicken as echoes of his past come back to haunt him and burden his body as he became more desperate to find a way home. After an hour or so he comes up to a home, old but well kept and looked after. His home. Silver looked over the house, breath hitching for a few moments as memories started to assail his mind. He groaned slightly as a pale hand came up to his temples to hold them for a moment, shaking his head after, calming his breath. The Isldar slowly stepped forward through the snow to the doorway, hand raising and pausing for a few moments before finally colliding into the wooden surface a total of three times. For a solid minute, the scene was still, the wind had stopped, no noise could be heard, it was all just dead. Suddenly the door open, greeting Silver as a man much like him but in fine, militaristic, Isldarian clothing, his features resembling Silver’s but they were more tired and it was clear he was a lot older than our protagonist. He looked to the other Isldar, raising a brow simply. “H… Hey Father.” Came from the Wardens mouth in his native tongue after a long pause. The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he simply moved out of the doorway, stepped toward the Warden, and looking him over a few moments with surprise and curiosity before Silver could go on to apologize he was met with a tight embrace from the older man. “I thought you were dead, but thankfully you aren’t. Welcome home, son.” Mnementh spoke, holding his son in a right embrace before pulling him into his home. The two entered the darkened house, looking around and moving to seat themselves. The older Isldar had no pain in his heart, only curiosity for his son. Asking many questions about where he had been, why he hadn’t come home sooner, what he has been up to. There was no anger or talk of his brother in the night, just conversation of where Silver had been and what he had been up to. Soon the two Frostlings retired for the night and slept until daybreak. The next morning Silver had met his mother after a long time without seeing her. He was given a similar greeting as his dad had given, through what came next was the confession. He told his family what all had happened that night with himself and Kaenaran. The morning was solemn after that; his brother and sister soon coming to the house and hearing the same story for Silver’s mouth once again, their reactions to the words were different; however, they held no anger as they knew it was as hard for them as it was for Silver. The day went on and, the Warden was told many things about his brother, sister, and parents. What they had been up to and how they were. The day was good after that, and Silver was happy once again. The next few days he did some shopping and prepared for his departure, not before spending time with his family of course. Next, though, he’d have to tackle the challenge of a Wyvern…
