(no subject)
Mar. 6th, 2012 08:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
"That wasn't a very good story."
"No?"
"It wasn't."
"But it's a very old story."
"Doesn't make it any good."
"No?"
"It wasn't."
"But it's a very old story."
"Doesn't make it any good."
The land of Ailan's birth and childhood was in the north. It was a land of water, chill and beautiful, flanked by old forest and imperious mountains, whose necklaces of deep blue lakes were like opals, and laced with long winding rivers that shone like silver streamers in the sun.
Eirendi's mother came from a rolling country of wooded hills and burbling streams called Hamadry. It was a warm and balmy southern land where the trees never lost their leaves, remaining full and green throughout the year. There, Rou built a house for his family.