Flight of the Fletcher
Days passed with barely a notice. Siriin wandered the grove, seeing all the sights there were to see for a sylvari almost fresh from the pod. As the Grove slowly became familiar to her, the aimless wandering gave way to the shaping of wood. Initially, the other craftsfolk had treated her much like any other greenleaf-sapling, but as she completed any task they set before her, their respect for her grew. Some days she worked on simple objects of fancy, other days she helped shape wood and leaf into furniture fit for both sylvari and the many other creatures that had begun to visit the Grove. Occasionally the Wardens responsible for keeping the Grove safe from the jungle around it would require crafted supplies, a task which would take priority over anything else. Siriin enjoyed these tasks more than any other. Something about shaping the curve of a bow or crafting arrows spoke to her. Another of the carpenters in the Grove, Eidhar, told her she never seemed so relaxed as when she was working with the materials of the wood. For a few days he called her Bowstring, remarking she seemed as taut as one whenever she was not working or walking. But though the craftswork gave her great joy, she wanted to experience more places, more mystery. The Grove was still as beautiful as when she had seen it first, but it no longer held any mystery for her. But she had still not ventured far from the northern edge of the Grove. She had been on one small expedition to learn what kind of branches were ideal for arrows and where one should look for good wood in the jungle, and even for those short hours she had been looking over her own shoulder numerous times, startled by unknown noises. But still the outside world attracted her attention. She also still wondered about this ‘Dohar’ from her Dream, though she could still clearly recall the moment in the Luminary’s study when thinking of his image brought her fear, so she had not sought him out nor asked as to his whereabouts. She had, however, inquired as to a time when she might speak to Kahedins again, hoping the Firstborn might be able to help her. A time was found and she slipped away from the wood-shaping workshops on the given day. The Luminary of Dusk was no longer the only sylvari in the Grove who recognised her and knew her by name. As she walked through the archways and pathways of the Grove towards the Firstgrown, fellow sylvari greeted her, but she returned but a scant few. Unlike when she wandered, her pace was quick and she arrived outside the Firstborn’s study sooner than expected. With the door open, she peered inside to find Kahedins poring over a map of the Grove, with the study itself being largely as she had last seen it, in a state of organised chaos. As if sensing her presence, he looked up from the map and turned around. “Ah yes, Siriin.” he exclaimed, giving a slight bow, “I was told you were hoping to talk to me, and I must confess, I was hoping to run something by you as well. I have heard little but praise about your woodworking abilities, so I have some designs I wish for you to see.” Kahedins began rolling up a bunch of scrolls from his desk, while motioning for her to take a seat in one of the chairs situated around the study desk. After a short while, the Luminary too sat down, and through a little prompting from her fellow sylvari, Siriin began to talk about her problem. How she wanted to explore the world outside the Grove, to attempt to puzzle out more parts of the Dream that was still somewhat of a mystery to her and her future. Unlike the telling of her Dream, this tale did not take hours, and Siriin did not feel nearly as tired as she had been then. Kahedins looked her in the eye, though she found it difficult to hold his gaze.