There was a day when giants cast shadows over cities and mountains...
And he remembered that day still as if it were yesterday. It still played in his dreams not every night, but frequently, reminding him of what could be. Reminding him that demons do exists, and that even a god can become one. Being there by Ashuanar's side in the wake of the Great One's rising, in the wake of Sparhawk's death, witnessing the things that followed, changed more than anyone in that moment could realize.
It changed everyone.
And despite what valiance there might have been in their lord Gerra's actions in ending Drakormir's existence at the expense of Elbion, even in this there was great sin, which says nothing of those sins committed just prior. And it was those earlier sins that were witnessed by him and the other couple dozen Sipahi that had been dispatched with him on this latest endeavour, who were also among those present. They watched helplessly as Gerra lashed out against his closest confidants, and it was these cruel moments as the now Empress Regent bled in the Red Sun's arms, their hearts for their god changed, and they grew wary. Instead, they gravitated toward the bond that the Stars and Sun shared and looked to them for their light to lead them. Even if it was that it would lead them back there: to the heart of Arethil's great wound, near the Forbidden city.
The desert nights were cool, and its wind could be harsh. Tonight, was such a time, and so with wagons rounded in a semi-circle at the base of a great dune, they found reprieve from the cutting winds. Their fire burned in relative peace with only the odd, infrequent flicker of a draft. For Ihtizaz and his brethren, it was nothing they hadn't seen thousands of times before. The nomadic tribes of the Abtati were all too familiar with the desert's various displays of wrath, and the Mari-Kuul were no different. Many of them stood off a little further from the fire, robed in their all too distinctive albeit plain dress. Ishizaz, however, stationed himself quite close to the fire with some of the others who'd been chosen to undertake this task. There in the orange glow, the discussed what was to come.
As it was, the Forbidden City was just out of sight. They would be there in only a short matter of time.
"I'm not sure if we really understand what to expect out here," he said, sitting cross legged by the fire with a plate of food on his lap. He was the only Abtati who had thus far shown their face to any of the others during this journey, "I'm not sure if there is anything left to expect."
It was clear by his tone that, though he was ready to carry out this task, he was not exactly keen on returning here.
And he remembered that day still as if it were yesterday. It still played in his dreams not every night, but frequently, reminding him of what could be. Reminding him that demons do exists, and that even a god can become one. Being there by Ashuanar's side in the wake of the Great One's rising, in the wake of Sparhawk's death, witnessing the things that followed, changed more than anyone in that moment could realize.
It changed everyone.
And despite what valiance there might have been in their lord Gerra's actions in ending Drakormir's existence at the expense of Elbion, even in this there was great sin, which says nothing of those sins committed just prior. And it was those earlier sins that were witnessed by him and the other couple dozen Sipahi that had been dispatched with him on this latest endeavour, who were also among those present. They watched helplessly as Gerra lashed out against his closest confidants, and it was these cruel moments as the now Empress Regent bled in the Red Sun's arms, their hearts for their god changed, and they grew wary. Instead, they gravitated toward the bond that the Stars and Sun shared and looked to them for their light to lead them. Even if it was that it would lead them back there: to the heart of Arethil's great wound, near the Forbidden city.
The desert nights were cool, and its wind could be harsh. Tonight, was such a time, and so with wagons rounded in a semi-circle at the base of a great dune, they found reprieve from the cutting winds. Their fire burned in relative peace with only the odd, infrequent flicker of a draft. For Ihtizaz and his brethren, it was nothing they hadn't seen thousands of times before. The nomadic tribes of the Abtati were all too familiar with the desert's various displays of wrath, and the Mari-Kuul were no different. Many of them stood off a little further from the fire, robed in their all too distinctive albeit plain dress. Ishizaz, however, stationed himself quite close to the fire with some of the others who'd been chosen to undertake this task. There in the orange glow, the discussed what was to come.
As it was, the Forbidden City was just out of sight. They would be there in only a short matter of time.
"I'm not sure if we really understand what to expect out here," he said, sitting cross legged by the fire with a plate of food on his lap. He was the only Abtati who had thus far shown their face to any of the others during this journey, "I'm not sure if there is anything left to expect."
It was clear by his tone that, though he was ready to carry out this task, he was not exactly keen on returning here.
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