“Awa Jar.” he said before writing his letter with haste. He nearly filled the small scroll with his message.
I write you with urgency. The skies grow sick in the south with each passing day; sick with a darkness that hides in the brightest of sunlight. The forest is silent and I fear the storm we await is being conjured with the help of other hands. I know you too have felt what dwells in the west, but there is something we overlooked, or perhaps there is someone else against us. No names shall be mentioned in this letter should it fall into the wrong hands. We must see eye to eye on these matters as soon as the southern moon finds the ashes of the north.
I’m on my way,
- A friend
Seconds after he finished, the text shined and faded from the page. He rolled up the small scroll and tied it with the leather strap. Attached to the strap was a small cuff which Nim fastened to the owl’s leg. Lifting his hand up to the sky the owl took off. Nim climbed down from the tree and began walking.
The owl flapped its wings against the air as it ascended into the night sky. The lands were dark and the torch light of scattered cities could be seen for miles. Small villages and magnificent kingdoms all surrounded by wilderness. The fog of the lowlands crawled up from the deep south and clung t0 the vegetation. Heavy northern winds rattled the message on the owl’s foot as it crossed the river Faric. Twisting through the southland the famous waters ripped into Rayguth's Scar — a massive canyon whose walls bent the Faric back north. Starlight glistened off the rapids and pierced the dense foliage of southern woodlands.
Even in times of growing anticipation the world looked strangely innocent from above. The usual acts of murder and larceny were almost forgettable at the sight of the gorgeous terrain. Any other owl would think that the lands were simple. But this particular owl’s spirit was gifted with ages of foresight and wisdom. Thanks to Nim, it knew of the evil hiding in the lands and the history it left behind.