...also known as ah, how I miss it.

Keep in mind, this writing is four years old. Be gentle with it, please!

The Story Begins...

The wind lightly rustled the leaves somewhere deep in the forests of Avalon. A slim, athletic shape lightly tread upon the firm cushion of leaves carpeting the ground, silently weaving through tightly knit branches and lush curtains of vines gently swaying from the trees above. Easily gliding through the labyrinth of greenery, the shape's feet left no impression in the soft loam, and its passing disturbed nary a twig.
The shape paused in a small clearing, almost as if it were checking some undetectable sign or ascertaining the location of some invisible trailhead. As sunlight filtered through the leaves of the canopy above, details of the shadowy figure became clear - long light brown hair was tied in a braid that hung down to a slim masculine waistline. A lean, muscular torso was covered by a plain dark brown tunic, centering a wiry, athletic build. There was a sharp, clean-shaven face, tanned and weathered by years of exposure. Hazel eyes sparkled green and brown, and upon closer examination in the right conditions, revealed a haunting combination of pain and sadness deep within. Slim, pointed ears, a confident, practiced stride, and an almost unearthly grace, coupled with a rapier strapped to one hip and a supple, powerful longbow slung across the figure's back completed the impression of a lethally agile Avalonian ranger.
Abruptly, the ranger chose a direction seemingly at random and disappeared into the forest, making his way through the thick undergrowth with an easy, purposeful stride. As he disappeared into the forest, a very sharp observer may even have noticed a slight crook at the corner of his mouth, almost as if one side of his mouth was turning up in a half smile sharp enough to cut adamantine like butter.
The famed ranger Erowyn - cool, calculating, precise, lethal - seeking refuge from this senseless war at the hiding place of his childhood. What would my comrades think of me now?
If the birds at that moment could speak, they would have told a tale of a living weapon - a man honed to razor precision, able to kill with the flick of a wrist or the twitch of a finger. They also would have told a tale of a haunted man - one who had seen entirely too much killing, and had acquired a palpable aura of grief and sorrow that followed in his steps. The flowers themselves almost seemed to weep shimmering tears of dew at his passage as he gently brushed them aside on his way through the forest. A man alone, with no refuge to grant him relief from the ghosts of his past, no companions to share his burden. This was a man who had chosen his path in life, and was now paying the price for the choices he had made.
If only they could see me now - all those that I've killed before. What would their faces say? I wonder if they would blame me for their senseless deaths, or if they would grant me amnesty based on this gruesome slaughter they call a holy war. Would they see the pain their tragedies cause? Would they see the children they left behind, the lovers and family, that I so cruelly deprived of comfort and stability in a world already rife with discontent? Or would they simply see me - these cold dark eyes, memorizing their faces as they are pierced by my blade or the unforgiving shafts that fly from my bow?
Silently traveling through the forest, alone with his troubled thoughts, Erowyn Landolier, ranger of Avalon, strode the only path he had ever known - one of solitude, filled with the pain of others, all the grief that others could not bear resting on his weary shoulders.
After several hours alone with his thoughts, constantly moving, stopping at neither obstacle nor exhaustion, he emerged from the thick woods into a clearing, sparkling with strange lights rising from a peaceful pool in the midst of ancient trees overgrown with moss. Very little sunlight penetrated here, and yet a comforting light seemed to emanate from the pool itself. As he walked into the clearing, a sudden observation brought his steps to an abrupt halt.
There was somebody else here.
Sparkling, eery notes twirled from her harp, oddly comforting and yet tragic at the same time. Dark brown hair cascaded down her back, shimmering in the odd light. The glow of the pool illuminated pale skin, and a cloak covering several daggers and a bow lay discarded nearby. A pale horse grazed on the other side of the pool, as an eerily beautiful voice lifted notes in a language just beyond comprehension.
Standing stock still, completely silent except for the breath entering and leaving his lungs, Erowyn simply stood and listened for several long moments, savoring the temporary ease the music seemed to bring. Slowly exhaling, he crossed to the edge of the pool, staying a respectful ten feet or so away from the newcomer, and sat at the edge. Not looking at her, he removed his boots and slipped his feet into the crystalline shallows. Pausing, he looked at her for one long moment, and then shrugged off his tunic and slid into the water...
Savoring the feel of the cool liquid over the scarred muscles of his abdomen, back, and chest, he submerged completely and simply floated, content to lay in the crystal suspension for several long moments. His muscles beginning to loosen, Erowyn relaxed and allowed himself to gently float upwards. As his head slid out of the water, smoothly breaking the surface, he languidly turned, treading water in the shimmering pool. Continuing the turn, he faced the newcomer, studying her for several moments in the calming glow of the clearing.
Pausing briefly, Erowyn bowed his head in a short, courteous nod, speaking in a quiet voice, almost overloud in the silence of the wood.
"I am Erowyn Landolier, ranger of Avalon. My apologies for the interruption."