[pre]The River Teyber meandered through the Gulvorian Forest like a giant serpent through untamed marshland. At the forest’s edge, water cascaded down eroded bedrock and tumbled into a shallow pool below. High walls of rock encompassed the pool at either side, confining the roars of rushing water. This little haven was home to many varieties of wildlife, all of which found comfort and safety in the tranquil water and steadfast rock. Man was rarely seen here. Those who sought to fish the river did so downstream, and villagers who came to collect water rarely travelled this far south. A quiet refuge was thus maintained for the few who did journey here.
They were glad to hear the babbling waters. The day had been uncompromisingly hot, and now that they had arrived, all three headed straight for the welcoming oasis before them. Shoes were kicked off and shirts left to hang upon nearby branches. Then came the splashing of water and shouts of joyous relief. The coolness that greeted them soothed aching limbs and replenished tired minds. The labours of the day could be washed away here, and troubles forgotten. They laughed and yelled, feeling their spirits invigorated. On other occasions they would jump from the high rock faces above, but today they were content merely to paddle about.
The eldest of the three now moved slowly toward the falling water. He was tall and his build suggested one who had laboured hard over the past few years. His hair was cut short with a little stubble appearing about his chin. The others glanced in his direction, but did not follow. They instead began jabbing and pushing at each other, until one fell. The other then proceeded to hold his friend’s head under water until he submitted. Although all three had now passed sixteen and therefore come of age, they still enjoyed these childish moments. In the village they were expected to think and act like adults, but here they could allow themselves such foolish pleasures.
Orsiga Freorir stood before the cascading waters. The air was cool and inviting. Then he plunged inside, allowing his senses to be engulfed. The din of rushing water seemed to open his mind to thought, for he always came here during times of uncertainty. It was here that he could forget all pains and responsibilities. The fresh waters that now swept over his body provoked new perspectives and ideas. The simplicity of nature brought to him a fantastic clearness of vision.
A sudden movement from beneath him caught his attention. A hand had latched onto his ankle and now pulled with great force. Unable to resist, Orsiga fell backwards immediately. He now found himself between the bedrock face and falling water. He looked up as the others burst through and appeared on either side of him. They were laughing now, mocking their toppled friend. Orsiga smiled but said nothing. He stretched out an arm to each of them, gesturing that he wished to be pulled up. They obliged this silent request, and grabbed onto his wrists. But without warning, as Orsiga took hold of their arms, he heaved them down will all the strength he could muster. Both fell instantly, apparently taken off guard. It was now Orsiga’s turn to laugh, and he did so in loud, hearty tones. The others soon joined in once more, all lifted in high spirits.
As the light began to darken, they strode onto land and collected their garments. It was an hour by foot to the village, and tonight they had a grand feast to attend. It was to be held in honour of the village chieftain. The tribal council had elected Nodric Amarine into office over forty years ago, and now he was revered as the oldest and wisest ruler in the southern territories. Despite the declining health that advanced age now brought him, he still retained the shrewd nature and cunning that had nurtured his rise to power.
The three lingered by the pool a little longer. Orsiga stood a good head taller than the others. Edi Geirrson was, by comparison, a rather diminutive young man. He was also a little overweight, a fact that could quickly agitate him if provoked. He brushed strands of wet, straw-coloured hair away from his eyes and knelt down to put his shoes on. Standing next to him was the slightly taller Grinwald Sturluson. He was wiry and his arms appeared too long for his body. His hair, like Orsiga’s, was black in colour but he had not yet developed any about his chin. When all were ready to depart, they slowly moved toward an opening in the rock face.
There was staggered conversation as they began the journey home.[/pre]
