Importance
Frozen Destiny, Part 1 - The view of the Stygian.
I'll gather my horse and meet you at the trail head…
Those were the some of the last words Importance spoke for the length of their journey. His horse trotted slowly along the natural trail in the side of the snow covered mountain, falling just behind Rashiar and Thorious as they rode.
Importance wasn’t normally one for pleasantries, but this evening was different, he was angered and short-tempered… more so then usual, that is. Not to mention, there was plenty on his mind. Importance stared down at his hands, mind left to drift in the silence and frozen winds. It had been so long since he had wielded the arts; the arcane power of magic and fire. Before, it was his life, His goal, to further his knowledge. It was all he had known. He’d go to any lengths to further his cause, and his past very much held true to that.
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Frozen destiny (Outside the cave)
Foggy mist. It was thick. So thick they could not see eachother's faces. So thick they could not see the danger that lurked therein.
Thorious thought, whatever his face looked like now would likely be frozen there for all eternity, even after the rest of his body rotted away. He grinned at his grizzly gest and immediately regretted it as his lips stretched and cracked.
Balls! It was cold! Even for a tough Cimmerian like Thor. He couldn't tell if Rashiar was having any troubles, and Importance looked like a bundle shuffling along the snow. He would be damned if he would say anything before a woman. He would be doubley damned in he said anything before Importance.
Continuation of Frozen Destiny
Importance's face dripped with venom as he saw Thorious approach. Rashiar looked quite uncomfortable standing there with the man.
"Thorious," he spat, "I need to talk to you alone!"
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Ramblings in a Poitainian Spring
I like Tinabula. Power there, and strength behind the smile and occasional giggliness. Perceptive also.
Why pray here rather than the Temple at Fort Conviction?
I looked about the Chapel in Caenna, its old familiarity, the scent of incense still flavoured with Baione flowers as it was when my mother prepared it, for I follow the same recipe.... Safety here, calmness. A place that has always been. For much as I strive to build Invicta's new home strong, there is a nagging fear that perhaps it will go the way of Fort Invicta
Frozen Destiny
When it rains, it pours.
Importance sat silently at his desk, his dark eyes staring idly down at the book that lay open. His mind wasn’t reading the words, his mind was farthest from his current location. It was focused upon the events that happened several days ago.
His mind flashed back when he stood in the ancient pyramid built out in the sands of Stygia. He stood there eyes fixed on Cyril. His body lay cold and motionless on the stone floors. Cyril had been put under the spell of the Yothga plant; his reign of madness was put to rest. He locked Cyril’s body far in the lowest levels of the pyramid sealing the doors with whatever magicks he could still conjure.
He had made so many mistakes in the past and those were coming back to him now; All at once it seemed. He had lost so much and for what, he asked himself. Sacrificed all that he had to protect those he cared for most and only seemed to hurt them more.
Reverie on a wedding, a battle and a kidnapping
Focus.
*Giggles*
I recall how often Hroth says that to Terri. But it is true.... I should focus on these stitches. Here as I wait for my love to awaken. Sitting and trying to sew the neatest of stitches for a gown I shall wear on that day Relius wishes me to be his Queen. But my talents lie with cooking and baking, distilling and the mystical properties of herbs and roots as they both transform taste and cure or protect.
Ah, protection... I wove a wedding wreath of myrtle for Hroth, with the love of a sister in it. And all the many sweet-smelling flowers in Terri's chaplet were there to enhance the love of that day and protect her.
*The hem drops to her lap as she gazes at the swallows darting beyond the window, up betimes as she is. Falling into reverie*
They needed that protection ...though Aurelius had it all well in hand, as always.
His death, Home.
He breathes in slowly, the feel of warm sands beneath him. Opening his eyes to survey where he is. Mounds of rolling warm sands stretched far, beside him ran the cool waters of the river, Above, the seeking sun reaching down to offer it’s warmth. Slowly he pulled himself to his feet, a glance to his side where the wound once stood. He had no doubt of where he was... He was home.
He knew what this meant, it was time for his answers. To truly be at peace, for once. To find the truth behind the one question the would forever torment his mind. The question was of her well being, the one he had lost. Sonya... He murmured. He was ready to see if death had claimed her and taken her home. He was ready to be with her once more. He was ready...
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His death, The end.
By the time he had reached the fort, he was doing all he could to keep conscious. The loss of blood had made him tired and delirious. His weak and trembling hands clasped tight to the reigns so he wouldn’t fall. His tired body was slouched over the horse as it slowly trotted inside. The horse slowly passed Moki and Arafn as they had talked, catching their eyes as it did.
His death, The battle upon the hillside.
He stood quietly in the midst of battle, a calming nature crossing his features, almost too calming for those to stand in the heart of a fight. He stood beside one who controlled lightning as her ally and weapon. He controlling fire as his own. The sounds were loud and resounded through the rolling plains of Aquilonia. Sword to metal, metal to flesh. The clanging and boom of shouts.
Amongst him stood those of King’s Guard and upon their charge was those who called themselves, “The order”. He had stumbled upon them on their way to the fields of Poitain. He was unsure why he stopped, or let alone bothered to help. He did not know the predicament or why they were choosing to fight. However, He knew what The Guard stood for and whom marched in their ranks.
The Tale of War
Importance stood near the fire, watching the flames as they danced. The nights conversation had jumped around, but then the question was found. Tereska desired to hear the story of the war the eve before. The storming of Sanctions keep and the battle that took place. Importance agreed to tell her. He cleared his throat slowly as he begun to speak,
O, the day when a many marched into unknown soil...
To seize the keep of the heart's once toil...
The tyrant and his army filled within their own defensives build...
Amongst the men stood those of fame and fortune...
The male Cimmerian, his blade ablaze...
The female Cimmerian with her bow up raised...
The priest with her blessed powers...
The one in red which heart devours...
The one who’s head shined with the hours...
They marched between trees of palm...
The moon arose and with it the colds breeze...
The Minstrel's Lute
His face was still and neutral, eyes cold and without emotion. His gaze was fixed upon the lute that sat in front of him. It was not a mere instrument, it was gift... a promise... a finale goodbye... He sat in silence, lost in thought. One is gone and now I am losing another. Lirio was his friend and ally. He would even go far enough to calling her family. He trusted and cared for her, more then he would ever let known.
The lute that he now held was hers, she had given it to him, with a final song. The song written for him and the one he had lost, it was beautiful, full of life. He lowered his head as he whispered quietly to himself, “She would have loved to hear it”. His heart ached as sorrow slowly resounded through his face. The time passed and he remained still.
The Hunt begins
The injury from Konrak's blade...
stung with every step. She had nothing now. No clothes. No weapons. No more nightmares. No memories... except...
Taoys. The touch of his skin when she ran her lips along his neck. The smell of his body, the way he was so still. His silence. Sanctuary...
Conflicts of the mind.
It was morning, the sun was just reaching above the seas of Stygia. The calm waves dancing in the reflection of the sun. The soft sands whirling about the rough cobblestone streets of Khemi, stinging the skin of any innocent who isn’t well covered. In the background, playing like melody to those who would listen, the sounds of the city ring as the day begins. The crying of street urchins, the soft footsteps of the people, the slithering and hissing of the snakes upon the ground. Like a well sought orchestra planned and perfected, yet filled with chaos and untimely manner. The order was similar to the thoughts that raced through Atrinark’s mind. Order and balance, yet chaos and unorganized.
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The Stygian's Demise
The night was setting, the moon replacing the sun. A brief sweep of air moved through the drafty and dimly lit room. The man sitting within the room was all but lost in his books, eyes ever gazing at the words written upon them. Beside the man sat the cold remains of a snake, cut and mutilated. Stygian culture could preach on how jewels and gold were meaningless treasures that only a fool harbors, that real wealth is found in knowledge and within knowledge there is power. Stygian’s believed that with knowledge there was no place for morality, that the goal for power was to get by any means. Yet within that, there were rules... Rules that restricted the people. A snake, a simple creature, yet believed to be the mark of the god Set. To kill one would result in death, and within that we find the paradox . What say you if the path to knowledge required you to kill, civilians, creatures... Snakes... What happens then?
