A Pyre, An Urn...

[Wendigo 786]

Two figures part ways, one robed and dark. His form melting into the night, the clack of armor fading. The opposite figure turns swiftly away from the pyre, and begins to walk down the beach, his teeth flashing in the moonlight, a crooked smile splitting his face. Behind them both lay a pyre, some of it's content removed and spread. The ashes are cold to whomever may find it.

 

After a day and a night the next morning in the settlement of Fi'ceru a lone urn is seen in front of the Golden Owl Tower. Mosquitoes buzz by, their ceaseless droning seems to fade away as you gaze at the words inscribed into the urn.

 

'Arethil, Rest Well Mali'ii'

 

Edited November 16, 2015 by Wendigo

[1 1393]

As the smoke rises upon the eastern isle, Irhamirs eyes flicker, his ears twitching while at it. Walking over to the isle, searching for the source of the smoke he frowns.

"Well then."

He remarks, his gaze turning down to the once pure water, now with blood.

[Elad™ 560]

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