This left the Treesap Burg, as the seat of Northern Chasm was called, empty and claimless, ready to be bestowed upon a new champion to fly its banners through this most desperate time. Their old liege had fallen greatly out of favour from his deceit, and overshadowed by the Therain’s accomplishments, they had officially severed their link with his dynasty as it were. As bitter that taste left in her mouth, Eylinn knew that hardtacks of wheat and rye most likely would be the main source of sustenance for the next coming months or year.Īs they approached the fork splitting the Chasm in two, the North Chasm dwellers had no leader to call their own. Reaching the wheat glade, Coerthas had unceremoniously taken his people and withdrawn, to clear out the slab and attempt to grow crops anew. She trotted on her horse in point as they crossed the black wastes, witnessing the desolation as it had spread from the mouth to deep within. Yet here roamed the people she held so dear, and here they wished to end their lives in peace. Tethered to its ruinous walls she was, ever encroached by the long cast shadows from its heights, the rift as broad as the one in her heart. She had come to realise that most tears wept had come from this very canyon, its memories refusing to let her off its grasp. Her mind was too occupied for petty rest, as she had held Anwën in her arms upon her chest, planning, deducing, grieving and falling to the most amazing conclusions. With heavy feet they broke camp the next morning, but Eylinn had not wasted the night with sleep. Three Months after the battle at Golden City.
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