Andustar 2118 Share Posted December 18, 2023 Spoiler [Disclaimer: This is a personal post detailing my character's mindset following an event and thus is not public information.] Cowardice. Weakness. Failure. The words rang through Albéric’s ears. Yet, he possessed little awareness of his surroundings. Before, he stood upon the weathered defences of a shamanist temple, but the storm that previously battered him had subsided. The cold rain and sea spray had been replaced by an intense heat that radiated anger, shame and disgrace. “I know this place,” he managed to utter through parched lips, hands purchasing a grip upon grains of sand. Years ago, the desert before him had appeared in a vision, rendered barren by the eternal watch of the sun overhead. It threatened to beat him into submission with every step, the heat scorching his calloused feet. The knight swore to walk this unforgiving path, even if the pain was too great a burden to withstand. And still, he had fallen in his stride, broken body coming to a halt in a barren wasteland. The figures in the distance, whom he sought to follow, grew further and further away, never wavering in their steps. “I-...” Barely a rasp escaped his dry mouth. He wondered, had the heat stolen his capacity to speak, or did he lack the courage to admit his folly? Perhaps it did not matter, for there was but one truth he now believed. I cannot do this. I’m little more than a disgrace. The sands rippled at the thought, threatening to swallow him whole. The knight felt himself sink, and part of him welcomed the enveloping embrace of judgment. “Now hold on there,” a pair of voices declared in unison, reaching into the sand to grasp a singular arm. Albéric wondered, who now clung to him, determined to rob a coward of his deserved fate. A woman spoke, “So easily you judge yourself. Yet, you gave me your hand when I was undeserving.” He recognised the shrill and noble tone and perceived an elegant figure, his blurred vision just about defining her face. She was a persistent individual who had suffered at the hands of betrayal and her own oppressive paranoia. Then, a man spoke. “You suffered a defeat, but there will be battles to come. Would you rob the realm of a sworn sword?” Again, he recognised the voice, touched by a tone of unmistakable pride. This figure was distorted and gravelly, like shattered limestone fragments someone sought to piece together again. He was a stubborn memory, felled in a war some considered righteous, others treacherous and immoral. “Who would judge me deserving of sympathy? What could a broken sword, who trampled his vows, possibly offer that permits his existence?” The two figures scooped Albéric across their shoulders, “You are more than your past mistakes,” again they spoke in unison. “It is cowardly to run in the face of fear, but it is worse still to bow one’s head and succumb to despair. You held on to us, now let us do the same.” They lifted him from the barren wastes and into the light. The broken knight’s feet found grip upon the dunes yet again, the figures who had hoisted him up now fading like a mirage. He looked back towards the light in the distance and the people he longed to follow getting further and further away. The digits upon his single hand clenched as he realised some strength remained, so he took another step. To make amends, first you must forgive yourself. Now walk, son. Those voices beckoned him like a divine chorus, crying out from beyond. Defeat stung, but life still clung to his body. Amidst the shattered ruins of the temple, Albéric awoke. Spoiler Just a personal post I felt I should write, following the event last night with the Azdrazi and Ka'Tau. Thank you everyone who participated! 15 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
Jentos 6875 Share Posted December 18, 2023 Tor-Praeth. The Nephilim Prince, the An-Gho, sat broken on the roots of a great tree growing from the ash. A great, smoking great-sword leaned on the stiff trunk of the Thinking-Tree. The library where the tree grew was silent. Wordlessly, he brooded, reckoning with the events of the prior day. So close to victory, he thought. And yet so far . . . He turned his gaze to the East. 9 Link to post Share on other sites More sharing options...
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