(no subject)

Ashraf walked beside his donkey up the gentle slope of the snow-brushed trail, and beyond Riddle's swaying back, an elven man rode astride a sleek black mare. Riddle moved in step with the mare, more seamlessly than if the mare and her rider had only just fallen in step while passing ahead. Ashraf wondered why the pair lingered, and glanced at the elf's face.

His richly embroidered tunic proclaimed him wealthy, and the imperious tilt of his jaw suggested nobility. He looked young, perhaps not even thirty years old, and his straight blue-black hair had only just reached beyond his shoulders. His mare was well provisioned, bags slung across the elegant saddle and tack, and Ashraf thought he rode with the resignation of one settling in for a few hours of it.

The elf seemed aware he was being studied, and glanced down at Ashraf. His face was narrow and fine boned, although a white vertical slash marred one cheek with an old scar. Golden eyed considered Ashraf, and one thin brow arched as he stared.

"What?" the elf asked, quite informally for one so well dressed, and Ashraf found himself puzzled. They were definitely walking in step with one another, their mount's heads slightly misaligned. He considered this with a frown, then turned this frown back onto the young elf.

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

"About what?" the elf asked.

"I'm not sure about that either," Ashraf said, which was a poor answer, and got the both of them frowning.

"Let's start smaller," the elf said, "I can't help but notice that you're staring at me. Would you say there's any particular reason for that?"

This should have been an easy question to answer, but Ashraf found himself at a loss. There was a familiarity he felt from the elf that spoke to a previous connection, and Ashraf was no stranger to such a tenuous recognition, but he typically had more to work with. He said eventually, slowly, feeling the words out for truth, "Were we walking together?"

"We were," the man said, and that yellow stare had become very dubious. "Are you alright?"

Ashraf thought on the answer to that question, and how nothing seemed immediately wrong so much as puzzling, and realized with a sinking weariness that something was almost definitely not alright.

"I don't think so," he said, and slowed to a stop. Riddle flicked a long ear at him for it, but she too obligingly slowed.

The elf pulled up his horse a few paces onward, the both of them turning as if to scrutinize together the mystery on their hands.

"What is it?" the elf asked, and then darted a quick look at the pale-trunked trees standing silent sentry around them. He held the reins in a tight hand, and his tensely poised shoulders didn't relax when no trouble presented itself.

Ashraf sorted through the questions in his mind, examining each for importance, and settled on the one that rose to prominence.

"Who are you?" he asked, and the elf blinked at him.

"Really?" he asked. Ashraf nodded, and the young man's lips tightened. "I fail to see what game we're playing here, but I am nothing if not a gracious host, and I will play along." He swept into a well practiced bow, elegant even despite a horse interrupting its lower arc. "I'm Vanadi de Vadarta, cursed son of the Vadarta Estate. Shall we do you now?"

He knew that estate. More memory trickled back into place. Distracted from answering, Ashraf shrugged off his pack and sank to one knee to dig into it, searching.

"You're on ever thinning ice," Vanadi de Vadarta said, undeterred, "Acquaintance of my esteemed Governor, expert in all things doomed."

"Vadarta, I know that name," Ashraf said, and carefully extracted a well worn book, its unmarked leather sides worn shiny with use. From its pages he pulled a slightly crumpled letter, singed at the top. "That's the estate my friend is..."

Ashraf trailed off, the young man's words sinking in at the same time that their surroundings did.

He knew the white bark--those were Heartwood trees, which was what he'd expected to find at the end of his journey into Winter's Court. Their foliage overhead shifted in brilliant scarlet collage and murmured amongst itself, greedily drinking in the brilliance of the crisp afternoon. The Wall loomed behind Vanadi, its thick ice all aglow with the dazzle of the Lightkeeper so close above them. Ashraf glanced over his shoulder, and saw the ice spires of an elven manor peeking through the riot of summer reds behind him.

He pointed back toward it, hazarding a guess, "That's the Vadarta Estate?"

Vanadi's flat stare answered for him, and Ashraf dropped his eyes to the letter. He skimmed it quickly, and more of the picture painted itself across his mind. It had arrived just a few seasons ago, a letter from a woman he hadn't seen in so long that he struggled to conjure her face. She'd addressed him casually, wrote of the mundanities of life at the Vadarta Estate, and mentioned concern for the health of her daughter, who Ashraf knew well had died in her arms a lifetime ago. Ashraf knew a quiet plea for help when he read one.

He had begun his journey the next day, and soon arrived in the tundra at the edge of the civilized world. Pushing farther on he'd crossed ice floes and moved up into ever steepening peaks, where finally civilization began to reemerge. Farmers' families had kept him on track towards the estate in question, and he'd expected to reach his destination in the next day or two.

Only, it seemed he already had. He felt around the edges of the presumed time since, his wariness sharpening.

"We've already done this," he finally said, lowering the letter. "Haven't we?"

"Several hours ago," Vanadi confirmed drily. He rested his forehead against splayed fingertips, sighed deeply, and said, "But we can do it again if you enjoyed it so much. Shall we?"

Ashraf, not knowing what else to do, nodded. With great heaviness about the limbs, Vanadi pulled the reins of his black mare to turn her head back toward home.

"Follow me," he said, his suffering as noble as it was unsubtle. Riddle flicked her ear again, then snapped flat teeth at the mare's flank as she passed. Ashraf rubbed her thin brush of a mane.

"Sorry, girl," he murmured. "Bear with me a little longer."

The donkey hawed her impatience, but allowed herself to be turned to follow the elf's mare back downslope.

"So, what can you tell me?" Ashraf asked, eying his guide.

"Oh," Vanadi said, "Trust me, it's better if you just go find out yourself."

"Why?"

"I tried to catch you up, last time," Vanadi said, his vague gesture weakly offering attempted help. "But there's the fact that I've no idea what you're doing, and no idea what you're even gleaning from our dusty old halls, and that you won't trust a word from my mouth without hustling away to, I assume, verify. I have discovered that my role is to wait to be told to pack my bags for Aluthsa. This time, I believe I'll leave Darling saddled and packed."

Ashraf's brow furrowed; this investigation was off to a bad start. Vanadi produced no further details, and some twenty minutes walking returned them to the spiraling ice gates of the Vadarta Estate.