" Koblord. "
 
 
 

    Koblord found no pleasure in his garden today. That in itself was unusual. Something stirred in him. Maybe he was just lonely since his love had gone home. He had expected her to return again early this morning, but he knew that sometimes affairs of state spring up. Duty and family have their priorities.
Still he was unsettled. There seemed something foreboding in his very garden. His plants seemed weak and dull colored this afternoon. Perhaps it was his perception. He had had some ale last night to help him sleep and too much can be known to ruin his good feelings the following days.  But he didn't feel ill, just displaced. Almost out of focus. His intuition was telling him things that were not logical. His garden usually helped him relax, but today it was as if all of the outdoors irritated him.

    Deciding to go back in he gathered his staff and cloak hanging from the fence nearby. He walked back inside and threw them on a chair in the corner of the room. He looked around. Everything was as it should be. Feeling marginally better now inside he decided to study by the fire.

    Koblords domicile was of an interesting design. The garden he came from was visible through a screened wall on the southern part of the building. The ceilings were high and made of  post oak and slate. A small stream twisted it's way through the garden and actually into the west end of the house where it was channeled off into a holding tank for showering and powering a few devices through his home. A small pool was here to store and chill bottles of drink and some foods. Then it was deposited back outside where it flowed to a river half a mile away.

    The northern wall of his home was made of  the same post oak, but the wall slid back and forth on a series of stone rollers. Many wind chimes and pinwheels were mounted just outside of it on an iron grid work that emphasized symmetry and chaos integrated together. The East side of the home was made of a sturdy masonry. Stones precious and non precious inserted in colorful patters resembling waves were set into the mortar. In it's center is a huge fireplace. Surrounded by stone shelves on which many candles burned brightly. It was here before the fire that a black hammock hung from the ceiling and a heavily padded chair sat with it's back to the fire. There were bookshelves set into the floor so that they would be unseen until he uncovered them and drew them out.

    He sat for a while reading from one book and scribing into another. Then he noticed that the light from behind him was growing brighter. He arched an eyebrow and turned to see the hearth glowing even though the logs fueling the fire were almost completely consumed.

" A strange day indeed. " He said out loud. " This is not my own stress deluding me. Something is amiss. "

    He reached over to a black book and moved the chair facing the fire. Opening the book he seemed to reference something quickly and put it back down again. Leaving it open to what he had just found. He moved back out into his garden and went to a plant with yellow berries on it. He reached into his pocket withdrew a silver knife and cut some of the berries and a few leaves off of the plant. Holding them in one hand he replaced the knife inside his cloak. Walked back to the fire and sat down. Picked up the book and read a few syllables out loud. He ate half of the berries in his hand and threw what was left to the fire. He closed his eyes.

    What he saw in his mind was hard for him to fathom. Swirls if green and yellow. Trees in black and white weeping. elves running around them trying to gather leaves from the ground but getting sucked under the earth. A brilliant glow. Waves of sound swept over his ears. Voices upon voices. Music over music. The princess in a crude wooden coffin alive but not struggling. Then the trees again... They called him. The trees faded away until what he recognized as the Silvertree remained.

    He opened his eyes and as the dream faded he saw a smile in the fire fade away. He did not understand most of the dream but he understood enough to know he must visit the SilverTree and that he would find trouble there. He stood up. Grabbed his staff and  walked  away from his home. He turned to look from the corner of his garden. Hate to loose this place. He withdrew a few seeds from his cloak and tossed them into the air. They helicopter  towards the ground he exhaled sharply and they lifted back to the air and circled around his home a dust seemed to fall from them as they circled and his home seemed to vanish into thin air.

He nodded and turned satisfied. Walking into the woods. Towards the SilverTree.

To Chapter five