Rathon

Half-Sylvan Elf and half something else...?

son of Barin,

Songmaster of Numenorea

Hid the Gem of Natural Wonder...

What better place to keep it safe, the elf thought. It came from nature and should go back to it. It was part of a different world, of that he was certain, but it had such power over this one - the dwarves knew that. Yet, in its use it brought devastation. The contradiction was stark: the shard’s ability to heal all the wounds inflicted on the Prime compared to the total destruction it brought down upon its user. Occasionally, he knew, there had been those who understood what would happen to them but still chose to heal the world around them. How courageous they had been. Here it was hidden and guarded by powers beyond explanation – nature itself! Only those with sufficient understanding would know of this link between Planes and how to summon the ‘roots, trunk and limb’ of the Tree.

Yes, it should stay here, near the Tree and this wonderful creature who would secure it without even knowing or caring what it was. ‘It is certainly not safe with me,’ the elf’s thoughts broke into Fawn’s mind again, ‘not where I am to go’. The music changed subtly, taking on something a little darker, the notes more bass and resonate. ‘No, there is no easy path and I dare not leave you in that realm,’ the elf continued to think as his fingers slowed and the lyre’s now more discordant voice weaved its patterns. He knew that the Glade existed between worlds, between Planes – neither Prime, nor Ethereal, nor otherworldly. It existed everywhere and nowhere. ‘Yes, the shard would be safe here,’ he reaffirmed. Fawn saw the elf drop a small green stone into the pool to his left, barely altering the music to accommodate his movement. The Nymph stopped for a moment and looked at the concentric circles expanding across the deep, blue water. She smiled and danced again, slowly returning to the forest as if she knew all along the purpose of their encounter.