Making his way through the crowds, and towards the center of the temple's courtyard, the cloaked figure stopped at his mark. Slowly turning around and taking notice of his surroundings from under his hood, a grin formed upon his face...
"Sheep... SHEEP! All nothing, but cattle!" "Livestock...! Eating, drinking and sleeping, as you are meant to... As you are made to!". As the people began to gather, taking notice of the scene, his hands began to slowly emit a dark-greyish mist, from within the robes that concealed them. Now, with a slightly more audible growl "Such are the ignorant, the unworthy creatures you are...! Unworthy of His GLORIOUS coming..."; as he began to pull-back the hood, he continued "... unworthy of His glorious rebirth", revealing his long raven-back hair, scarred & marked face, and, at the gasps of many, his greenish-yellow snake-like eyes.
The crowds hissed and booed and some had begun to depart, when a massive figure suddenly thrust from between the crowds, bellowing with rage "Wretched creature! Your kind took my sister's life with your lies and deceit!".
Unsheathing a 2-handed longsword, and charging with all his might, the man produced a magnificently vengeful slash fully intended to cleave the dark figure in two, before being rendered off-balance, as the dark figure swiftly dodged the attack. And before anyone could react, a dagger had been pressed upon the tender flesh of the large man's throat, supported by the dark figure who had taken position behind the now helpless attacker, down on one knee. He leaned to the man's ear and hissed "I know not of whom you speak... but if you aim to test your faith in Lathander's rebirth, right here within his temple... I would be more than happy to oblige..."
Moving his unoccupied hand to the side of the man's head, the figure murmured something under his breath, more visible weaves of mist escaped his hands, and he quickly left the sizable form of the man lying unconscious in the middle of the temple grounds. As he rose, he spoke again, "I do not come to preach you, heathen, for 'He' chooses those worthy of his worship". "Rather, I come to seek the faithful... the true! The followers of the one true power!". "I seek the chosen... of the Apprentice".
Heart In Pieces
Sanria wandered Westbridge, looking official, all the while fearing the worst. She tried to keep her thoughts on her daughter, but they kept floating back to the man in white who she loved. She paced in Festival Square, working herself up until she could do nothing but play ring-around-the-fountain while biting her nails.
The more she thought about it, the more she began to panic. The more she panicked, the harder it was for her to even breathe. She would settle it. She would go home. Emalia would be fine, her clan always said she would, they would look after her.
Her body aging as it was, Sanria took the magical means of transportation and willed herself into her house. "Thasmudyan?" she called. "Sandorin?" No answer assured her that, as always seemed to be the case whenever Emalia wasn't there, she was alone.
Sanria moved through the cavern, up the familiar stairs to her bedroom. At the least, while she was here, she'd make sure she was clean. As she dropped her cloak onto the floor she noticed a note sitting on the stand.
The steady, slanting hand that contained with it so much authority stared back at her. 'Oh no... this can't be good.' Sanria sat on the bed, running a finger over the black ink and with her heart straining to leap from her chest, she unfolded the note and began to read. Her heart slowly sank as her brown eyes, filling with the liquid of pain, scanned the slanted scrawl. The tears slowly meandered down her face, she didn't even notice that the beautifully penned note had fallen to the floor.
He was brought back for a purpose. He had something that needed to be done. He had to go, to traverse the realms to find out what it was. She had to go on, he had said. Had to let life survive, not to wait for his return. After 18 years, and getting her true love back, she got the closure she never had through all those years - but it came at the expense of her happily ever after.
The more she thought about it, the more she began to panic. The more she panicked, the harder it was for her to even breathe. She would settle it. She would go home. Emalia would be fine, her clan always said she would, they would look after her.
Her body aging as it was, Sanria took the magical means of transportation and willed herself into her house. "Thasmudyan?" she called. "Sandorin?" No answer assured her that, as always seemed to be the case whenever Emalia wasn't there, she was alone.
Sanria moved through the cavern, up the familiar stairs to her bedroom. At the least, while she was here, she'd make sure she was clean. As she dropped her cloak onto the floor she noticed a note sitting on the stand.
The steady, slanting hand that contained with it so much authority stared back at her. 'Oh no... this can't be good.' Sanria sat on the bed, running a finger over the black ink and with her heart straining to leap from her chest, she unfolded the note and began to read. Her heart slowly sank as her brown eyes, filling with the liquid of pain, scanned the slanted scrawl. The tears slowly meandered down her face, she didn't even notice that the beautifully penned note had fallen to the floor.
He was brought back for a purpose. He had something that needed to be done. He had to go, to traverse the realms to find out what it was. She had to go on, he had said. Had to let life survive, not to wait for his return. After 18 years, and getting her true love back, she got the closure she never had through all those years - but it came at the expense of her happily ever after.
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