Dierra Wandered among the forest paths singing a low song that morning, wandering to the heart of the Vita Do'rum to explore the giant trees carved long ago by an ancient race. Her deep forest browns complimented the tree bark around her, her tribemark -A small cresent carved in green on her left hindleg- looked almost like a leaf.

She heard the rapid fluttering of wing in the distance, drawing her attention. "I wonder what that could be." Dierra followed the noise, deciding to figure out what the fluttering had been. Slowly she went down a different path, one leading to the southern edge of Vita Do'rum that looked out upon the Frostpeaks.

"Hello? I thought I had heard something around here." She wandered out from the forest edge, staring out on the intimidating yet beautiful Frostpeaks. It was there that she saw a great white figure coming towards the forest. It seemed to be another Himune, though not like any she had seen before.

The white Himune breathed deep the forest air, "Ah, so long it has been since I've breathed the sweet forest air, and felt it's mysterious song."

"Who are you? And why do you look so fluffy and white?" Dierra walked up to him curiously, snuffing as his downy fur tickled her nose.

He let out a deep belonging laugh at her, his voice seeming old as the ground beneath them both. "I am from the mountain tribes little one, the Algor tribe Snowdown of the frostpeaks. Rurik is my name. Is that answer enough for you?"

Dierra nodded and trotted up beside Rurik as he began walking into the forest. "Do you want some company as you walk?"

"Yes little one, it would be nice to have someone to talk to as I walk. My journey here has been a long and tiresome one." As he spoke his age began to show. His gait was stiff and arthritic, his tail dragged upon the ground. "I do not suppose you know what lies at the heart of this small forest, the Vita Do'rum, do you little one?"

"My name is Dierra, and yes I do!" She snuffed at him again, a playfully defiant look in her eyes, "There's the giant carvered trees at the forest heart. It's my favorite place in the whole world!"

Rurik laughed again, "I am going to meet an old friend there, a friend whos living breeze has passed on not long ago."

"But, doesn't that mean that he's dead?" Deirra looked at Rurik oddly, questioning him quietly.

"Yes, it means he is no longer Himune, but it does not mean he is truely dead. His living breeze went back to the great winds, and was reshaped by the elders so he could once more influence Irrae."

"I don't understand Rurik, what do you mean his living breeze has been reshaped?"

"Little Dierra, I mean the elders have given him new purpose. Each and every thing on Irrae has a fate and a soul. The Himune are of the wind, and our living breeze is lifted upon the great winds when we die so that the Elder of Sky may see our fate fulfilled. The fire has it's firespark fed to the Sun Elder's mighty bonfire, the earth has it's earthbond and earthen souls return to the earthmother and Elder of Earth, and finally the waters have their lifestream and the eternal river shaped by the Elder of Water.

"It is our four elders that shape all our fates, and our purposes. By reshaping the living breeze of my old friend they have given him new fate, and new purpose to follow." Rurik looked down at Dierra, "Do you understand now little one."

Dierra looked down at the ground, pawing it lightly, "I guess I kinda do. Your friend was brought back by the Elders so that he could change the world in a way he couldn't before, right?" She looked back up at Rurik, "Can you tell me about your friend?"

Rurik gazed longingly at the sky, sighing, "Yes, little one, though you may know little of what I say. You seem not even of twenty thawings yet."

"Thawings?"

"Thawings are how we of the Algor measure time. We celebrate the world as the winter ice melts. I believe the Silva call them turnings, for when the leaves turn and fall. The Cristares call them cycles and celebrate them by flight. But that is not my story now is it?" Rurik looked onward again, lost half in memories, "It was long ago, more than a hundred thawings ago when I was in the prime of life. My tribe was travelling from the Northern Icelands to the Frostpeaks, we were starting anew in a fresh and untamed place. As we traveled we came to find the Dunefeather tribe of the Trolag'h Desert. They were traveling to the eastern pinnacle as were we, so we traveled together for the time. While travelling I befriended a young Cristares named Phaindre, who at the time was not 40 thawings.

"This young Phaindre seeked to learn much of the world, and he did. I taught him some of what small magics I new, and of the lands we had travelled before, and he thanked my eternally for it. In the short time the tribes had been together we had become good friends, but eventually it was time for my tribe and I to fly the distance from Opeios to Ternell."

Deirra looked up at the aged Himune Algor with renewed admiration, "But then, what happen to Phaindre? You said that his living breeze had passed on."

"It did, little Dierra, but it has been returned to Irrae as a Phoenii, a servant of the Sun Elder. He has come to the heart of this forest. It is one of the last decisions I've made to come see Phaindre one last time." Rurik stopped as the reached the giant carved trees of the forest ruins. "Only once before have I seen the heart of Vita Do'rum."

"Rurik, how old are you?"

"I am over two hundred thirty thawings little one, and my time is nearing it's end." He sighed, a deep sound of rest, "My life has been long enough for me to see what wisdom there is in passing to the great winds. Now you should go get rest little one, the sun grows low in the sky. We have been talking all day without notice."

Dierra looked around the carved wonder of the Heart of Vita Do'rum, and finally back to the ancient one she had been walking with, "I'll come and see you tomorrow if you are still here Rurik. Sleep well." She bounded off back to her village.

"Goodbye little one," Rurik called after her, laying down, though he spoke more to himself as she disappeared, "I'm afraid though that this night is my last on Irrae."

*****

"Phaindre, come where I can see you!" Rurik called through the trees, "I wish to know what has happened to you since I came to these mountains."

A large, brightly coloured firebird came to rest in front of Rurik, chirruping slightly, "Old friend, you have missed much since last we met. I came to be leader of the Dunefeathers, and three cycles ago I died defending them."

"Yes, I felt your living breeze upon the winds that night my friend. Tell me though, why have the Elders shaped you as a Pheonii?" Rurik shook his head at the bird, "And why lead that little one too me earlier?"

"Surely Rurik you have not become so blind," Phaindre chirruped again, "My son has come to lead the Dunefeathers, but he has no love for anyone. I believe Dierra can unlock his cold heart. As well she may have talent with the Elder's Arts, just as you did long ago. They need someone of the arts in the desert, to see why much of the game has fled Trolag'h. The predators have taken to attacking travellers before last sun, it's a bad sign."

With a great heaving sigh Rurik laid down his aged head, "I have become blind my friend, for age has sapped all of my remaining vigor. But I can see your wisdom still, and agree. She has an usual charm to her. But these all are a discussion for a later time, Phaindre, as I am slowly fading. Old friend, grant my body to the freat winds this night, for I know that this rest shall be my last." With this he closed his eyes, placidly falling into a soft sleep.

"Rurik, may the great winds find you in peace."