A Crow Flies

[Zezimus 1523]

A Crow Flies

 

 

The hour was late, yet the air warm as a figure mounted on horseback emerged from over the top of a rocky mountain. At the backdrop of a vibrant sunset, it was apparent that his years had shown their wear upon his wrinkled skin, his hair greying as he tapped the heel of his boots into the side of the large black steed upon which he sat. Rearing it along the road ahead, he looked over the lands to which stretched before him, noting the sight of a crow soaring high in the air. A faint hint of a smile formed across his face as what remained of the sunlight seeped through a thin parting in the cloud, an intense heat radiating upon his back.

 

 

His name was Viktor Carrion of the Ostrovic-Sarkozic line, the lastborn son of his father, Ostromir Carrion. His past life, beset by tragedy with the assassinations of his mother, Isabelle Horen and his guardian, Franz-Joseph Carrion, for too long had he wandered the world without purpose. Past years had seen the rise and fall of his house, a constant battle against forces seeking its usurpation. He knew deep down in his heart, that perhaps not through reason or discourse would peace be attained but through bloodshed and conflict. So too was he aware that surely it would not be long before he himself would be called to join the fray. He could only pray that perhaps after all, there was yet some good left in men to be sought.

 

As he neared closer to the vast expanse of cityscape, a thick stench of various smells filled his nose. It was his own uncle, Tuvya Sigismundovic Carrion who now ruled from the throne of the Holy Oren Empire. He remembered little of the man beyond the brief sighting in his childhood. Yet long had he wondered what part he would have to play if he were to serve beneath his rule. Now as that time had come, he had only his fate to guide him onward.

 

[3andD 1722]

Well written ))

[Glyc 234]

Moved to the Great Library. It shall be sorted into appropriate category shortly.