Post by Aeric Ecrai on Oct 18, 2009 17:47:59 GMT -5
Foreward: Oh snap, bet no one will have any idea what is going on. Or have any idea what the heck happened to Aldraa'Norrech. Oh well. Enjoy.
Aeric looked down at Aldraa'Norrech with a mixture of sadness, but also a spark of renewed hope at the times to come. His gaze passed over Raoro, his thoughts wandering to the time it had once bore roses of white and red, the times when Dameus had still been alive. Now, the land was black and broken, harsh winds howled across the barren shell of capital, and that accused sanguine haze drifted across the land. The battle for Raoro had been the last, ironically. What had started in Gortek ended in Raoro, the noblest of lands, Ezekiel's home. Although Ezekiel had not been with them physically to see them retake his home, Aeric was sure he had been with them in spirit as they charged the ruined castle, yelling battlecries to the heavens, calling to Excalcigar. It had been a bloody day, but a day filled with hope.
Aeric then looked to Fabrith, his thoughts somewhat the same. How disparing he and his companions had been when he heard that the bloodmist had taken the equines of Fabrith from the earth, as it had taken so much else. They had traveled there from Chorros, leaving Victor and Magnus behind to forever bury the Eternal Library and protect the Al'Zharra. The retaking of Fabrith had cost them the lives of Barsidious and Ezekiel, but it had been Dirk who rekindled the flames of hope in their band and brought Rose from the depths of despair over the loss of her brother.
His gaze fell on Chorros then, the once golden sands of the Cataroc stained a grisly crimson, the same sickly tones the ocean now took. The great Temple Al'Zharra was crumbling, a few of its towers already reclaimed by the dark sand. Zeth had seen to the closing of Ex Mortus, making sure the bloodmist could not enter that plane of existence, but also seeing that the Elemenkish could never travel to this dead world. Arus Tower had been one of the first buildings in Chorros to be Misted. The once home of the Inquisition had been gutted, and many loyal men had died that day. All because of the greed of one of their own.
Gortek. What a sad sight it was to Aeric, the land of his enemies. His battle with Night alone had flattened the empire's castle and the siege had shattered the nearby countryside. It all looked the same now, he mused. Ironic now that all the world looking like Gortek, the earth cracked and black, that bloodmist wafting about killing everything. Everything was dead, now. Night would be pleased if she could see what she had done to the world. Lava had poured from the many peaks of the Dragon's Jaw, forcing the Drageroks from their home.
And now, he looked to his sides. The Immortal of Dawn at his right, the Immortal of Dusk at his left, preparing the worldweave, the savior-spell of the now dead earth. How he wished they had stepped in before the bloodmist had begun, before the world had begun to die, before the whole infernal thing, but he knew it had been beyond their power.
[glow=yellow,2,300]"We are grateful to you, Aeric Ecrai. You gave your life to save this world, and so did many of your dear friends. With the death of Night, and with the death of this world, we know that you will not be able to see your bloodline continue,"[/glow]
The Immortal of Dawn turned to him, his face unseen under the shadow of his white and gold cowl.
[glow=black,2,300]So, when we remake the earth, we shall offer you the chance to do so. A son, Aeric Ecrai, to carry on the Ecrai bloodline. There must always be a Lightbringer."[/glow]
The Immortal of Dusk's onyx cape hung oddly still around his frame, his face similarily invisible.
For some reason, Aeric was calm. The only thing greater than his joy was his concern for the new world that was about to be born - a world he alone could not protect.
"I ask only of you both that the same be offered to by brother," he replied, but he knew it already had been, and that Nicodemus had accepted. He wondered now if Ezekiel, Jaster, and many of his other friends had been given the same offer. The ways of the Immortals were mysterious, but he knew this to be not only and act of practicality, but one of compassion.
[glow=yellow,2,300]"Then we ask of you a name,"[/glow]
The Immortal of Dawn and the Immortal of Dusk began to move away from Aeric, to begin the worldweave around the planet, the greatest Graceful Art of all - Excalcigar's gift.
But Aeric already knew the name he wanted. As the pure white lines of the Seventh Graceful Art began working their way around the planet, he knew that this world would be a better one. One of hope and joy, and perhaps his son would know a love that Aeric had not. So as the first sunrise of the new world began, he already knew the name of his son.
Alexander.
