On a bright afternoon in late Winter, when the Earth was flirting with the notion of Spring, Ashevathallion and his nephew Shane sat on a log and serenaded the river.

It had been a long morning of weapons practice, and the young half-elf had driven himself as hard to learn the ways of the sword as he had the rules of music and magic. When Ashe finally called a halt, the boy had protested, even though it was obvious he had taxed himself to his limit. His pleas that he would be ready to continue fell on deaf ears, Ashe simply placing his own practice blade in its place on the rack and then, picking up his nearby pack, walking outside. He smiled a few seconds as later he heard Shane scrambling to catch up.

Out the castle gate and across the fields he led him, walking to the water over snow that was merely a thin fragile crust. Here and there in the bare spots where the sun had melted through the first signs of green had emerged and the elven blood they both shared was beginning to sing with the coming change of seasons. Ashe took his flute out of his pack and began playing as he walked until the pair reached the log and Shane took up the tune with his lute. And so they sat and played music to the water and sun until the last note faded and they sat in the easy silence of friends.

"The mare Grandfather sent Ma is going to foal." The boy carefully set the lute back in its bag and then looked out at the river. "It won't be for a while yet but Da told us last night."

Ashe grinned. "I can imagine how your mother reacted. And it was the King Stallion who sent the mare, not my father. The Horses of Dawn choose their riders." The older elf studied the boy. When they'd visited the Fields a year ago, Shane had been present when strange beasts had attacked the herd and killed the Herd Master. Was this the reason the boy had driven himself so fiercely this morning? "It's been that way right from the very beginning, when the first two shed their wings of fire and agreed to be the Sun's gift to the Sithryn."

"I know. You told us the story.” The boy reached down, picked up a stone, threw it at the river and watched as it broke through the ice. "What about the Moon?"

"What about it?"

"Do the same horses pull the Moon across the sky at night?"

"Ah! No, the Moon Steeds are white, white as the stars, and their wings are made of moonlight itself." Ashe's words fell into the familiar cadence of the teller of stories. "The Goddess made them so fair that the stars shine right through them, and they do not light up the night sky as the Sun's horses do the day. "

Shane sat quietly for a few minutes, then reached for another stone. "And why is it that they did not choose to bear our ancestors as well?" The second stone landed a few feet further out onto the ice. He waited for an answer, and when none came after several minutes, he turned to look at Ashevathallion. "Uncle?"

"They do. It is just something rarely spoken about. Some consider talking of the Moon Steeds' service to the Sithryn blood ill omened, as if doing so invokes them." He tapped a finger on his flute, took a breath and spoke on. "When the Horses of Dawn came to us, the Sithryn looked to the Moon, and asked her if they might have an equal pair of her horses. But none of the team that pulls her chariot would agree to leave the heavens, and this grieved the elves that had seen their beauty. So, out of pity, the Moon Steeds agreed that on occasion, they would consent to carry one of our blood."

"They do? When, Uncle?"

"At certain times. When a great leader of our folk or one of exceptional purity dies, it is said that when the body is burned on the pyre under the stars, a horse winged with light rises from the flames and bears the elf 's spirit home to the Goddess."

"Have you ever seen that happen?"

"I think so, yes, when my mother died." Now Ashe stood and placed his flute in its own bag. "You know, Shane, from what I understand, Brennus died very quickly. Even if you had been skilled with a sword then, there was nothing you could have done to prevent it." He started walking back towards the castle as Shane fell in beside him.

The boy looked down. "I guess I know that. I just thought, maybe the next I will have time to stop a death, and I want to be ready." He looked up sheepishly. "Da talking about the mare made me think of Brennus, and so I pressed too hard this morn at practice, didn't I?"

"Aye, but bruises will heal;so does grief. Life turns like the seasons, lad. Now come along; we've still a few hours more of lessons before dinner. Let's try to find something a bit more pleasant to talk about, shall we?"

"Well, the twins slid down the stairwell on this tray, and…"

Ashe nodded, and savored the smile on Shane's face.

03/2002