Home At Last
Posted: Wed Oct 27, 2010 6:29 pm
It's a crisp autumn night, the wind blowing the last of the colorful leaves off the boughs. The lights of the Keep are not far ahead, and a small smile tugs at the corners of the Valkin'Vi's mouth. Quickly, before the wind dies down again, he unclasps his cloak and begins to remove his armor. As the last piece falls, he turns to face the wind, allowing it to flow over, around and through him. It tugs at his shirt, tousles his hair almost childlike and playful. What better way to scour the last remnants of that hateful place off of him? But no, he doesn't feel hatred towards Avanguard, merely sorrow and pity. As the Painted One closes his eyes, those mismatched orbs of his, he reflects on how chaos seems to follow in his wake, wherever he might tread. It occurs to him that perhaps he should have tried more, done more to help Avanguard, but what more could he have done? Perhaps it was fated, the fall of that land...
As the wind dies down, the Painted One looks upwards, focusing on the spot in the sky where She should be.
"My life for yours, Inessa, for I fear that will be the terms of the bargain." he whispers. There is no emotion in his voice, he was merely stating what he believes to be fact. He has no fear of death, however living a life with no meaning, no direction or purpose is what scares him the most.
As he turns to gather his armor and cloak, he whispers a soft prayer to the innocent lives that were lost, whose deaths could have been avoided if he were strong enough. A gentle gust picks up his words and carries them to the portal, as he turns towards the Keep and finally returns home.
As the wind dies down, the Painted One looks upwards, focusing on the spot in the sky where She should be.
"My life for yours, Inessa, for I fear that will be the terms of the bargain." he whispers. There is no emotion in his voice, he was merely stating what he believes to be fact. He has no fear of death, however living a life with no meaning, no direction or purpose is what scares him the most.
As he turns to gather his armor and cloak, he whispers a soft prayer to the innocent lives that were lost, whose deaths could have been avoided if he were strong enough. A gentle gust picks up his words and carries them to the portal, as he turns towards the Keep and finally returns home.