Free The Awakening by Gary Alan Wassner

Finally and with great care, they set in motion the mechanisms that would protect the treetop city as long as possible from the destructive might of the dark and imminent storm that was certain to shortly grasp all of Lormarion in its deadly fist.
    “I will attend to the boy now,” Elsinestra said to her husband in a hushed voice when he was finished speaking. “I shall stay by his side until our son arrives,” she declared and she inconspicuously backed away from him.
    “Go, dearest. Stand vigil for us all. I will join you when Elion is once more safe within the Heights,” he answered, catching her eyes with his own for one brief moment.
    “I love you, husband,” she said finally before retreating into the shadows.
    “As I do you, beloved,” he responded, hoping she could still hear him.
    Warmed by his devotion to her, he turned to his people once more and began the tedious work of securing Seramour from the inevitable onslaught.

Chapter Eight

    The path was twisted and narrow. It wound through the snow covered hills until it ended abruptly, opening into a barren plain of ice as far as the eye could see. The morning sun reflected brightly off of the sheets of frozen water, intermittently striking the eyes with brilliant flashes of blinding light. To the left, a dark area stood out in contrast to the whiteness of the ground. It was too distant to determine clearly how large it was or even if it was not simply an illusion; a mirage caused by the sharp sunlight playing tricks upon the eyes. Alemar walked, determined, toward it nonetheless.
    The Princess navigated her way across the slippery plain, digging her studded boot soles into the thick ice to insure her traction. As she drew nearer to the area of darkness, she began to discern color and was relieved to see the greens and browns of growth distinguish themselves against the white background. When she was within fifty yards, she could clearly see now the massive tree looming in the distance. The ground beneath her feet began to change from stark white to the colors of life, and it slowly grew softer to the touch and thicker with vegetation with each cautious step she took.
    Apprehension welled up in her throat, but never once could she have misinterpreted it as fear. Her confidence was driving her forward relentlessly, and although she was uncertain if Wayfair and Crea would accept her presence and speak with her, she was determined to approach them nonetheless. She could not sit idly by any longer and wait for the darkness to engulf them. In the depths of her soul she felt it coming, reminded each evening by the evil stench of wrongness that pervaded her senses in the waning hours as she lay awake, unable to sleep. Her father, as wise as he was, was determined to ignore the churning forces that she knew would eventually destroy them if he continued to deny their existence, let alone their virulent potency. Kalon was partially to blame for that, as he continually encouraged King Whitestar to avoid becoming embroiled in what he called the ‘human wars’. And her father, the King, embraced those excuses with both arms, wishing to avoid anything that might upset the long prevailing balance in Eleutheria.
    Alemar knew in her heart that her father harbored his own doubts about his recent actions or lack thereof. The mere fact that he was allowing her to attempt to converse with the Chosen and his Tree was evidence enough of that.
    I will find a more receptive elf when I return from here , she thought. If my journey should be successful…
    By this time her feet were upon soft and comfortable ground. It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps Crea was not even at home, but on a secret journey to somewhere mysterious and secluded.
    What a shame that would be , she practically said aloud.
    She approached with respect the looming giant whose shadow now fell directly across her path. Her skin prickled in expectation of the meeting and she all at once felt strangely