[Galadel Vinorel]

The red sun rose into the light blue sky of the morning. Adenain stretched out his worn muscles as he lay on the sweet-smelling grass. He breathed in deeply as he stared up at the sky, his mind beginning to wander. He thought of Minas Tirith, and his mother who had remained behind. He wondered how she was and what she was doing at this exact moment. It was almost as if he could see her. Around this time of the morning she would be rushing around the house, gathering up parcels of healing herbs and tools. She would then be off, rushing through the busy streets so that she could go to the main healer’s cabinet and drop off the fresh herbs before making her rounds around the Houses of Healing, and taking care of her patients.

As the man lay on the ground, his long body spread out in an awkward-looking, but very comfortable position, he heard the sound of the flute being played behind him. The sound of it was sweet and gentle, and moved the hearts of all who heard it. Rolling over on to his stomach, and propping himself up on his elbows, Adenain looked up at as his younger sister, Annemal, who was playing the beautiful sounding flute, with affection and pride. He had been the one who had taught her to play that when she was only five years of age.

Annemal played on as she reached her brother and sat next to him. Slowly she drew near to the end of the final verse; in her heart she longed to play more for her brother, who had done so much for her, and who now looked very sad, though she did not know the reason for this. The young woman finished her song then, and lowered the flute from her lips. Adenain turned around back onto his back and then sat up, looking over the beautiful view that could be seen from where their small house stood.

“You should be getting to your post should you not, brother?” asked Annemal in her quite and musical voice.

“Yes,” he replied, “I must report in to Captain Anhelm today for his instructions.”

“Come along then, and I’ll fix you some bread and butter with some goat’s milk before you go,” she said, smiling to him, pulling herself up, with him in tow, “While I’m doing that you can go and change into your uniform.”

Thirty minutes later Adenain exited their house dressed in his uniform of the Guard, with his sword and two knives hanging at his sise, and his bow and arrows strapped to his back. He walked calmly, a slight skip in his firm footsteps, to request his orders for the day from his commander, Captain Anhelm.