After such a long time away from the world he had departed so long ago, Kaz sat in Festival Square watching the people he did not know walking past. He adjusted the sword that was strapped to his back carefully. He was still not accustomed to carrying it. It had been years since anyone had attacked him openly, but twice Kaz had found himself at the point of a weapon and had to talk himself out of it. Luckily Kaz knew some tricks to make himself more persuasive, and he walked away with his coin purse and life both intact.
After some time a beautiful woman walked into the square with her eyes down and headed straight for the fountain like she had no intention of stopping. "Before you decide to walk clean through that fountain I would recommend a small spell." Kaz says jovially with a slight smirk on his face. The woman looks up at Kaz slightly startled and says "You mean Me?"
Kaz nodded slightly from his place on the bench "you look as though you have plenty on your mind." Kaz comments casually. The woman explained about her husband leaving and Kaz offered his limited experience on the matter of Love. She also talked about her young daughter Emalia, which led to conversations about the "Jihad", yet one more thing that Kaz must have missed in his long absence from the workings of this world along with the giant Rock sitting practically motionless over head. The conversation turned from that to weapons as the Woman asked about the Sword strapped to Kaz's Back. "You don’t appear to be the sort to wear such a weapon." She said with a slight smile on her face. This eventually ended in the woman challenging Kaz to a sparring match in which she pulled out her two hulking swords and twirled them menacingly obviously ready to take out some agression. The situation was quickly diffused by a tall man sporting the insignia of the Crimson Guardians, Kaz's clan from before his departure.
"Stand down My lady." The man said evenly. The woman looked at him and obviously noting his insignia said hurriedly, "Nay, it was just to spar." And quickly followed with a barrage of questions about her daughters whereabouts and if she was ok or not, All of which the guardian answered reassuringly.
When the woman mentioned that Kaz had been a Guardian at one point the hair stood up on the back of Kaz's neck as The Man looked him over and introduced himself as Throm uth Bannon. The family name sounded familiar though it had been a long time and his old memory failed him. The woman introduced herself as Sanria Haverland, and Kaz introduced himself as just Kaz, purposefully leaving out his complete name in hopes that his first name would not tip the scales of the Guardian's memory as to who he was.
After some small talk Kaz politely excused himself and slung his sheath back across his back and murmured some hasty goodbyes and promises of help should it be needed to Sanria. and Excused himself to head back to the Yawning Portal Inn and the Much needed drink that awaited him.
Seeking-out the Faithful
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".
"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.
Under The Oak Tree
Sanria sighed deeply and leaned her back against the rough bark of the oak that grew in the clan hall. It resembled closely the one where she had first met Thasmudyan, and that seemed ages ago. She could hardly believe that he was back, and yet here she was in the city, away from him.
It had been a long while since she had gone to the cavern, and oddly enough, even longer since she had really heard from Thasmudyan. Normally, if there were such a time in her life that could have been considered normal, he would have at least tried to reach her. Now, however, she heard nothing.
Sanria ran her hand over the parchment that sat on her lap, and pulled a quill from her pack. She tapped the chocobo feather against her chin and set out to write a love note to her husband. After only a few lines, she set the quill down, frustrated that everything she wrote seemed forced and trite. What do you say to a man that you loved long ago, that died and was worm food for nigh eighteen years, who suddenly reappeared and wasn't really himself. Who didn't really seem to mind your not being around, and didn't worry anymore about sending word to you.
Were it not for Emalia, perhaps Sanria would still be at the cavern, getting to know her husband all over again. Sanria let her hand slide to her side. Was he really even her husband still? Were not the vows til death us do part? Sandorin certainly had tried to get her to go out and meet someone to ease her heart - and Thasmudyan was like a brother to him.
The thought disturbed her so deeply, she rose and began pacing. What if Thasmudyan knew this, or thought it, and maybe was avoiding her. Did he, perhaps, not want to be with her since he came back and found her aged looking and on the crazy side? Was it possible?
She walked from the oak, bent on finding Thasmudyan and asking him point blank, but recalled why she was here in the first place. Rumors of her daughter being in the Jihad had reached her ears, and again, she was looking for Emalia. Just quietly - as not to embarrass her daughter as she had in front of Jayden. Sanria didn't want to lose anyone else.
It had been a long while since she had gone to the cavern, and oddly enough, even longer since she had really heard from Thasmudyan. Normally, if there were such a time in her life that could have been considered normal, he would have at least tried to reach her. Now, however, she heard nothing.
Sanria ran her hand over the parchment that sat on her lap, and pulled a quill from her pack. She tapped the chocobo feather against her chin and set out to write a love note to her husband. After only a few lines, she set the quill down, frustrated that everything she wrote seemed forced and trite. What do you say to a man that you loved long ago, that died and was worm food for nigh eighteen years, who suddenly reappeared and wasn't really himself. Who didn't really seem to mind your not being around, and didn't worry anymore about sending word to you.
Were it not for Emalia, perhaps Sanria would still be at the cavern, getting to know her husband all over again. Sanria let her hand slide to her side. Was he really even her husband still? Were not the vows til death us do part? Sandorin certainly had tried to get her to go out and meet someone to ease her heart - and Thasmudyan was like a brother to him.
The thought disturbed her so deeply, she rose and began pacing. What if Thasmudyan knew this, or thought it, and maybe was avoiding her. Did he, perhaps, not want to be with her since he came back and found her aged looking and on the crazy side? Was it possible?
She walked from the oak, bent on finding Thasmudyan and asking him point blank, but recalled why she was here in the first place. Rumors of her daughter being in the Jihad had reached her ears, and again, she was looking for Emalia. Just quietly - as not to embarrass her daughter as she had in front of Jayden. Sanria didn't want to lose anyone else.
Journal Entry Dated "Tuesday the 16th of Ches"
Based on the weather, I must be nearing the icy wilderness of Mahn Tor. The trees are bent with Ice and finding a decent place to sleep is becoming harder and harder as time goes on. I'm running low on food so I think I will make a quick stop in the city of Mahn Tor to restock. I have a few acquaintances there that should be able to get me what I need. Hunting has been sparse here in the ice. Most of the animals spend the day hiding from the large bears and snow cats that haunt this area of the wilderness. I’ve only seen a couple of them myself but I have seen the signs of them everywhere. Now to find a suitable place to set up camp for the night and begin the arduous task of finding enough firewood that is not laden in ice to make a fire.
Dawn of Time
The Spires Of Morning rose from the ground as would giant mountainous peaks to greet the dawn. Emalia and Colin stood on the stairs, Tamilyn having gone to quickly seek some sort of sale for some sort of item that Emalia nor Colin had some-sort-of seen. Emalia's heart grew so full at the mere sight of the temple, tears welled in her eyes as she stared upward. She was truly at a loss for what to do next. Even though going in (which Colin suggested) was the obvious choice, to whom would she go? She had set of on a journey with no idea of a destination other than the name of some far off temple.
Emalia had come to the realization that this would lead to the discovery of her own path and the directions to the Temple of Light, when a halfling boy bowed before her. Delighted at the little one, she bowed to him. Rose colored robes that were pleasant to the eye adorned him, though with his near 2-foot-tall stature, they seemed a little large. "Do you live here?" Emalia asked. She easily could have ascertained the information based on the myriad of beings clothed in similar garb, but for the sake of formalities, she obliged herself.
The halfling boy nodded and gestured to the temple, then to his obelisk. The answer was undeniable. "I'm looking for a place and need directions from someone. I thought I might find them here."
The boy wasted no time, drawing forth a pad of parchment and a quill. With practiced hand, he shot out a note, holding it to Emalia. It read, "What do you seek, Child?"
'Child?' Emalia thought. There were only two beings in the whole of the realms that referred to her as such. Jayden and Grobnak. It was a little disconcerting, but she pressed on, chalking the verbiage up to the fact that he was surrounded constantly with priests. "The Temple of Light. I am trying to find it, or even where to begin."
The quizzical gaze from the boy assured Emalia that she had mentioned a name unknown. The note shot up again, "There are many temples where you might seek Lathander's divine wisdom. Which one do you seek?" "I'm not really sure. I just know I need to get there."
At the sound of Colin's frustrated sigh, Emalia looked to him. Her attention went back to the small follower as another note was thrust into her line of sight. "The greatest temple of all lies within. Only by listening to The Voice within can one make such a journey." "What is 'The Voice?'"
Emalia was suddenly confused and rather embarrassed. She found herself biting her lip, as always, when she was on the verge of making some choice. In this instance, she was on the cusp of making for Westbridge to rethink her whole purpose, when another note was shown to her. "Do you seek renewal? Rebirth?" "Well, it is what The Apprentice would wish of me, isn't it?"
The boy, obviously knowing of whom she spoke, hastily penned another note: "I am here to guide you, but you must take the journey." "It is why I am here." "You," the next note read, "are not prepared."
From behind Emalia's shoulder, Colin's baritone voice offered up an objection. "Wait a minute... how is it you are here to guide her? How did you even know she would be here?"
A gaze clouded the young halfling's face as he pointed to a spot several feet from Emalia - clearly intimating that Colin was reading notes that were not meant for his eyes.
"I'm sure it was the doing of The Apprentice, Colin. He saved me in the ocean, too."
"Well, it was my thought that Tamilyn saved you. But at least she had a valid reason for knowing you would be there."
The boy pointed to the scars that ran over his face like a web and thrust a note toward Colin while Emalia stared to the ground. The two seemed to banter with one another, one using a voice, the other using a quill, both using swords. "A halfling that doesn't talk... that is your guide? Oh, no offense."
The halfling child held up another note, "He stands before you and blocks the way." Emalia glanced at Colin, obviously contemplating the same conclusion. She chewed at her lip nervously, and when the boy reached into his robe, Colin moved in front of her, putting his arm out protectively.
Emalia couldn't fathom what might have gotten into Colin. Here this hulking frame of a man had lept in front of her to protect her from a boy that seemed no more capable of harming a cat, let alone either of them. "He's a boy, Colin. He's obviously not going to hurt us."
As Colin lowered his arm, a note was thrust upward that both he and Emalia could see. "You have no Faith." "He doesn't need to believe as I do. I respect that." "See," Colin interjected, "and I respect her beliefs."
Without further baiting, the boy held up a note to only Emalia's eyes. As he held it up, he pointed to himself. "Nephesh." "I am Emalia, and this is Colin..." "This is ridiculous." Emalia watched as Colin threw his hands up and walked away. She lowered her eyes and looked back at the small boy.
"I'm sorry, perhaps the trip has him cranky. We did come a long way here, most of it he spent in the cargo hold. It's a long story." "He seeks to lead by following," Nephesh's note read. "No, that's not possible. He is only here by happenstance, nothing more." "It is your journey to make."
Emalia looked back at Colin, seeing him standing with his arms crossed, but much more composed. Was it possible that Colin had been sent as a test by The Apprentice to determine her Faith? Should she send him home? "What should I do?" "It is the path of a guide only to aid," the note detailed. "The journey is your own to make. Seek the wisdom of the Dawn." Nephesh looked at Colin for a moment and held up another note. "He needs to listen." Nodding, Emalia walked over to Colin and placed a hand on his arm. "Colin, do you think you could try, for me, to just... listen?" "I'm just wary of this person, that's all." "I'm not. You shouldn't be either." "I'm listening.. or reading, whatever."
Conceding that it was all she would be able to get, Emalia returned to Nephesh. The boy seemed to be somewhere else but before Emalia could question it, a sound like a thousand voices whispering in unison echoed in her mind. "YYOURRR FFAITHTHH ISS SSSTRONNNG, MMMORRTALL..." Emalia dropped to her knees, her hands reflexively going to her ears. She stared upward with reverent wonder on her face. Colin gripped her shoulders in worry, kneeling at her side, asking her what had happened - but Emalia only spoke, eyes welling with tears, that He had spoken to her. "Him."
Emalia rose to her feet, suddenly resolved to her course. She knew that she was meant to be here and knew there was a reason all these things were coming to pass. She knew most of all, what she was doing was right. Without any consultation with Colin, or any input from Tamilyn, Emalia agreed that they should stay in the Temple for the night.
Nephesh then offered a note to Colin which Emalia could see. "I can speak with the captains at port if you desire another cargo hold." At that moment, Emalia could see Colin's jaw tense. He looked in that instant that he was going to grab the tiny figure and dash the life from him. She could not explain it, and the fact was, Emalia had never seen the sort of anger that flashed over Colin like an arc of lightning.
Emalia watched contemplatively as Colin turned himself from the child. She looked back to see a note before her, "Your friend has no Faith. Those you once called kin know only Sin. Such is our path."
"Yes," Emalia began quietly, "I'm beginning to see that. I just wish he were different from all the rest. I would truly like to find a companion... but it looks ever more as though it is not to be."
With a reminder in the form of a note of her purpose for coming, Emalia took in her breath and buried her sorrows. It was time to let go of thoughts of companionship and love. For those things, she was fast deciding, never panned out. Faith, however, was going to find her a way on the path of life, and with or without anyone at her side - she was going to start walking.
Emalia had come to the realization that this would lead to the discovery of her own path and the directions to the Temple of Light, when a halfling boy bowed before her. Delighted at the little one, she bowed to him. Rose colored robes that were pleasant to the eye adorned him, though with his near 2-foot-tall stature, they seemed a little large. "Do you live here?" Emalia asked. She easily could have ascertained the information based on the myriad of beings clothed in similar garb, but for the sake of formalities, she obliged herself.
The halfling boy nodded and gestured to the temple, then to his obelisk. The answer was undeniable. "I'm looking for a place and need directions from someone. I thought I might find them here."
The boy wasted no time, drawing forth a pad of parchment and a quill. With practiced hand, he shot out a note, holding it to Emalia. It read, "What do you seek, Child?"
'Child?' Emalia thought. There were only two beings in the whole of the realms that referred to her as such. Jayden and Grobnak. It was a little disconcerting, but she pressed on, chalking the verbiage up to the fact that he was surrounded constantly with priests. "The Temple of Light. I am trying to find it, or even where to begin."
The quizzical gaze from the boy assured Emalia that she had mentioned a name unknown. The note shot up again, "There are many temples where you might seek Lathander's divine wisdom. Which one do you seek?" "I'm not really sure. I just know I need to get there."
At the sound of Colin's frustrated sigh, Emalia looked to him. Her attention went back to the small follower as another note was thrust into her line of sight. "The greatest temple of all lies within. Only by listening to The Voice within can one make such a journey." "What is 'The Voice?'"
Emalia was suddenly confused and rather embarrassed. She found herself biting her lip, as always, when she was on the verge of making some choice. In this instance, she was on the cusp of making for Westbridge to rethink her whole purpose, when another note was shown to her. "Do you seek renewal? Rebirth?" "Well, it is what The Apprentice would wish of me, isn't it?"
The boy, obviously knowing of whom she spoke, hastily penned another note: "I am here to guide you, but you must take the journey." "It is why I am here." "You," the next note read, "are not prepared."
From behind Emalia's shoulder, Colin's baritone voice offered up an objection. "Wait a minute... how is it you are here to guide her? How did you even know she would be here?"
A gaze clouded the young halfling's face as he pointed to a spot several feet from Emalia - clearly intimating that Colin was reading notes that were not meant for his eyes.
"I'm sure it was the doing of The Apprentice, Colin. He saved me in the ocean, too."
"Well, it was my thought that Tamilyn saved you. But at least she had a valid reason for knowing you would be there."
The boy pointed to the scars that ran over his face like a web and thrust a note toward Colin while Emalia stared to the ground. The two seemed to banter with one another, one using a voice, the other using a quill, both using swords. "A halfling that doesn't talk... that is your guide? Oh, no offense."
The halfling child held up another note, "He stands before you and blocks the way." Emalia glanced at Colin, obviously contemplating the same conclusion. She chewed at her lip nervously, and when the boy reached into his robe, Colin moved in front of her, putting his arm out protectively.
Emalia couldn't fathom what might have gotten into Colin. Here this hulking frame of a man had lept in front of her to protect her from a boy that seemed no more capable of harming a cat, let alone either of them. "He's a boy, Colin. He's obviously not going to hurt us."
As Colin lowered his arm, a note was thrust upward that both he and Emalia could see. "You have no Faith." "He doesn't need to believe as I do. I respect that." "See," Colin interjected, "and I respect her beliefs."
Without further baiting, the boy held up a note to only Emalia's eyes. As he held it up, he pointed to himself. "Nephesh." "I am Emalia, and this is Colin..." "This is ridiculous." Emalia watched as Colin threw his hands up and walked away. She lowered her eyes and looked back at the small boy.
"I'm sorry, perhaps the trip has him cranky. We did come a long way here, most of it he spent in the cargo hold. It's a long story." "He seeks to lead by following," Nephesh's note read. "No, that's not possible. He is only here by happenstance, nothing more." "It is your journey to make."
Emalia looked back at Colin, seeing him standing with his arms crossed, but much more composed. Was it possible that Colin had been sent as a test by The Apprentice to determine her Faith? Should she send him home? "What should I do?" "It is the path of a guide only to aid," the note detailed. "The journey is your own to make. Seek the wisdom of the Dawn." Nephesh looked at Colin for a moment and held up another note. "He needs to listen." Nodding, Emalia walked over to Colin and placed a hand on his arm. "Colin, do you think you could try, for me, to just... listen?" "I'm just wary of this person, that's all." "I'm not. You shouldn't be either." "I'm listening.. or reading, whatever."
Conceding that it was all she would be able to get, Emalia returned to Nephesh. The boy seemed to be somewhere else but before Emalia could question it, a sound like a thousand voices whispering in unison echoed in her mind. "YYOURRR FFAITHTHH ISS SSSTRONNNG, MMMORRTALL..." Emalia dropped to her knees, her hands reflexively going to her ears. She stared upward with reverent wonder on her face. Colin gripped her shoulders in worry, kneeling at her side, asking her what had happened - but Emalia only spoke, eyes welling with tears, that He had spoken to her. "Him."
Emalia rose to her feet, suddenly resolved to her course. She knew that she was meant to be here and knew there was a reason all these things were coming to pass. She knew most of all, what she was doing was right. Without any consultation with Colin, or any input from Tamilyn, Emalia agreed that they should stay in the Temple for the night.
Nephesh then offered a note to Colin which Emalia could see. "I can speak with the captains at port if you desire another cargo hold." At that moment, Emalia could see Colin's jaw tense. He looked in that instant that he was going to grab the tiny figure and dash the life from him. She could not explain it, and the fact was, Emalia had never seen the sort of anger that flashed over Colin like an arc of lightning.
Emalia watched contemplatively as Colin turned himself from the child. She looked back to see a note before her, "Your friend has no Faith. Those you once called kin know only Sin. Such is our path."
"Yes," Emalia began quietly, "I'm beginning to see that. I just wish he were different from all the rest. I would truly like to find a companion... but it looks ever more as though it is not to be."
With a reminder in the form of a note of her purpose for coming, Emalia took in her breath and buried her sorrows. It was time to let go of thoughts of companionship and love. For those things, she was fast deciding, never panned out. Faith, however, was going to find her a way on the path of life, and with or without anyone at her side - she was going to start walking.
The Master's Words
Nephesh awoke to the sound of scuffling feet. He'd overslept... again. Hadn't these humans ever heard of morning naps? They always wanted to wake at dawn and gather to worship. He understood the symbolic importance, but his body rebelled. It hadn't gotten any better during the past two winters, either. Why did they subject him to this torment?
Dragging himself from his bunk, the halfling boy lethargically donned the oversized pink robes the other priests had bequeathed him and joined the shuffle of feet to witness the rising sun. The sight filled him with awe, as it always did. The dramatic shapes of the clouds contrasting sharply with the colors of the dawn brought him - and all true Lathanderites - to his knees in worship. There were times he thought he could hear music when the day was still new.
He'd learned many things since Grobnak had sent him here. Once, he'd thought the orc a traitor to Jenova, but time had taught him differently. He missed the intelligence behind those eyes. Few could understand what drove that creature: Fear, Self-hatred, and a desire to become more than what he was. Nephesh was uncertain whether he should pity the beast or destroy it. The beast, however, had become his adoptive father... and liberator.
Time passed in meditation as Nephesh tended to the various chores he'd been assigned in the temple. It never ceased to amaze him how limited humans were: As a halfling, he could reach into smaller crevices than they. He got some of the more intriguing jobs as a result.
It was further into the day when he was called into the new Rector's personal study. He was expecting another reprimand from the old man for stealing something he hadn't - did everyone believe that that was the only thing halflings were good for? – but instead the old man had a message to deliver, in the form of an old scroll.
Nephesh stood by and silently listened to the aged priest prattle on about the destruction of the Realms and how the Jenovese were evil, and that it was against everything Lathander stood for, for nearly three hours before he was finally given the scroll containing his master's message. Gods, how he missed the kindly old woman who'd run the temple before; at least she had been one of the Faithful.
Unrolling the gilded vellum, Nephesh's brown eyes raced over Grobnak's hastily jotted script. It seemed a simple enough task: keep her on the path and beware the strangers she traveled with. Walking over to a censer, Nephesh threw the scroll into it, observing the cloud which suddenly billowed forth - in the likeness of the girl he sought: Emalia.
Dragging himself from his bunk, the halfling boy lethargically donned the oversized pink robes the other priests had bequeathed him and joined the shuffle of feet to witness the rising sun. The sight filled him with awe, as it always did. The dramatic shapes of the clouds contrasting sharply with the colors of the dawn brought him - and all true Lathanderites - to his knees in worship. There were times he thought he could hear music when the day was still new.
He'd learned many things since Grobnak had sent him here. Once, he'd thought the orc a traitor to Jenova, but time had taught him differently. He missed the intelligence behind those eyes. Few could understand what drove that creature: Fear, Self-hatred, and a desire to become more than what he was. Nephesh was uncertain whether he should pity the beast or destroy it. The beast, however, had become his adoptive father... and liberator.
Time passed in meditation as Nephesh tended to the various chores he'd been assigned in the temple. It never ceased to amaze him how limited humans were: As a halfling, he could reach into smaller crevices than they. He got some of the more intriguing jobs as a result.
It was further into the day when he was called into the new Rector's personal study. He was expecting another reprimand from the old man for stealing something he hadn't - did everyone believe that that was the only thing halflings were good for? – but instead the old man had a message to deliver, in the form of an old scroll.
Nephesh stood by and silently listened to the aged priest prattle on about the destruction of the Realms and how the Jenovese were evil, and that it was against everything Lathander stood for, for nearly three hours before he was finally given the scroll containing his master's message. Gods, how he missed the kindly old woman who'd run the temple before; at least she had been one of the Faithful.
Unrolling the gilded vellum, Nephesh's brown eyes raced over Grobnak's hastily jotted script. It seemed a simple enough task: keep her on the path and beware the strangers she traveled with. Walking over to a censer, Nephesh threw the scroll into it, observing the cloud which suddenly billowed forth - in the likeness of the girl he sought: Emalia.
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