Snow began to fall in delicate sendaline waves against the outline of the pine trees. Asthralain hurried across the clearing towards the comfort and cover of those trees. The distance was quite short but the snow rallied in intensity till she could no longer see. Like a swarm of icy hornets the cold flakes stung her face and blinded her eyes. This was no ordinary snowfall but the malice of the dark one.

She raised her staff and uttered the cry, “warastra mes dukhin” and a ferocious wave of force emanated from its crystal crown. Guardian fire summoned to light the way sprang outward at the whirling white ice and briefly while it lasted, it cleared the path. But the fire was brief and when it stopped the snow closed about her again like a brooding envelope of malice and it held her tight. In that brief moment of calm she thought she saw the foul one laughing at her plight. She sank to the floor battered by the ferocity of the blizzard but then her heart stirred to anger by the laughter rallied.

In her ire against him she stood and again raised her staff uttering the cry, “warastra mes dukhin all mek Serobben” and again a ferocious wave of force emanated from its crystal crown but this time it shot upward like a lightning bolt. Its blue-white power crackled into the overhead clouds and spread outward from within them. The exertion staggered Asthralain but she held and slowly the whole of the sky above her became illuminated in ghostly patterns of argent light. With a resounding ‘crack’ the ceiling of cloud was torn asunder as the guardian fire ripped through its mass rending it to tatters of mist. A fissure opened above her revealing sunlight and no more snow fell.

“Shesha harat mestras mehan vulsa maa,” whispered Asthralain. “Mother earth, I thank you for the gift of the secret flame.” Quickly she made her way to the safety of the trees and shelter. She could not have known that the Sylvinta was waiting for her there to begin its deliberations.