#aurenthir

Night was approaching and Aurenthir made camp close to an Itzel settlement. These jungle hylek had been a great help to him, and he in turn aided them when they needed him to mend their wounded.

He’s always been fond of the amphibian folk, even back when he used to live in the Grove. The knowledge he obtained with the hylek back in Caledon came in handy when he first met with the Itzel. He earned their trust, offering his skills as a tracker, hunter, and mender. In return, they taught him a great deal about the jungle, and as a bonus, allowed him to learn of their culture. He was grateful to have good allies in the jungle. The Itzel looked out for him, and he returned the favor.

A paw touched at his forearm and he turned his attention to Vernus. The hound looked at him with a doe-eyed expression.

“Be patient. I’ll get your food ready when the stew’s done.” Aurenthir leaned in to smooch the pooch’s head. Vernus did a small snap of his snout in protest, a tiny whine escaping. Aurenthir motioned for the hound to return to his spot, and Vernus complied, settling down to wait for his food.

Aurenthir looked back to the pot he was stirring over the campfire. His guest was still out cold. He had checked the other Sylvari over for any major injuries, patching up small wounds with healing salves. The leather coat was neatly folded to be used as a pillow for the lad’s head.

Two hand-carved wooden bowls were laid out. One for him and one for his mysterious guest. That is if the lad woke up and joined him for dinner. If not, the stew would still be good in the morning.

Fortunately, the other Sylvari was starting to awaken, groaning as he sluggishly sat up. Aurenthir reached into his pack to pull out a reed-woven flask of water along with a small wooden cup. He poured the water and got up, approaching the other Sylvari. He knelt by the lad’s side, carefully handing the cup to him.

“Here, drink this,” Aurenthir guided the Sylvari’s hand to his lips. The moment the water touched the lad’s lips, he gripped the cup and drank thirstily. It was clear the smaller Sylvari was dehydrated and Aurenthir poured him another cup.

“Thank you,” the Sylvari’s voice came out course as the he took in breathes between gulps.

Aurenthir got up and returned to the pot. He carefully pulled it off the fire, laying on a flat rock slab to keep it off the dirt. He began filling the bowls with the stew of vegetables and meat.

Vernus approached him and Aurenthir gave the hound a quick pat on the neck before reaching for the plate of mixed scraps that went unused for the stew. He laid it in front of his fern hound and Vernus chomped away at the meal. Aurenthir looked over his shoulder to see if his reef drake wanted any scraps, but she seemed to be fast asleep. Vermillia tended to hunt for her own meals by the river, and perhaps she had done so this night.

And then Aurenthir’s last letter to her before everything went down. For nearly an entire year he doesn’t hear from his podtwin, his last read letter left on the dusty desk of Ceara’s rented out room in Dry Top

A year of silence from her. Not a single response to his other letters, until the day the Pact Commander arrives to the heart of the jungle

Until he receives the news of his sister’s death in the venomous spiteful tone coating Kasmeer’s words as she accuses him of working with Scarlet Briar to awaken Mordremoth

Scarlet Briar, a name that he did not know, just to be told that Scarlet and Ceara were one the same. And they tell him that his beloved sister was a monster