soon.

[Abaddon]

In the darkness, and old man sits on the porch of the House of Chance. The gates are closed, and bolted. He can see the torch light of the guard lit in the distance. The wind is blowing down from the north, leaving it’s veil of frost and snow. The old man rubs his aching hands together, through the thick leather gloves. He can feel the soft black rabbit fur against his palm. He should be inside, where the dry warmth of the crackling fire will take the pain of the long decades off his joints.

But he can’t sleep, and the House, for all of it’s opulent glory, feels claustrophobic. He feels pressed in, by pain, and memory. He touches the smooth paper in his pocket with a gloved hand. It’s perfume reaches his nose, even under the wind and snow.

He hasn’t been sleeping well, and it shows in the bags under his eyes. It would probably show up elsewhere, if not for the thick safety of his mask. He’s been having nightmares. Dreams of failures, and death. He was so close to visions, when the golem gave him his sight. He’d never had the touch of the Valkyn’vi. He was a cripple, as futureblind as a human. He had never seen the future, or glimpsed the fate. Until then. He’d been granted two visions. One of success, and the other of eternal and un redeemable failure.

He had decided then to pursue that goal, shown to him by that golem in the forgotten city. But nightmares of failure had plagued him. Now that Tellinium was in the hands of the elves, well, it was that much worse. Of course, the big meeting was coming, and it was time to discuss the taking of the city of Haven. And while the old man really didn’t care, he was interested in taking away any prize the elves sought. Also, Tellinium’s prophecy weighted on him.

The old man went back in side, and closed the door.

[Aurora]

*As Abaddon is about to close the door. He hears a very familiar voice.*

You look like crap. Good thing I began feeling a pull at me to come back if only just for a day.

*The bundled figure takes off her helm. Hey flowing red hair and familiar markings present as her green eyes bring a bit of color to an otherwise gray and dismal day.*

*She stands at the door waiting for the old man to say something.*