the faith you prove

Ezekiel de le Poer · 03-23-2011, 05:28 PM

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Word Count: 300

There was a peculiar lack of fear within Ezekiel. He had seen a great many terrible things despite his youth, but he did not fear them. Some of this was due certainly to his desire for battle—the golden eyed boy had found sport in the most sacred arts, and he loved it. Fighting made him feel alive. Luckily, his dual-training had given him enough skills to know how to patch himself up after the war. After all, he bore no new scars and even the lighter of the ones on his face had been treated and healed. The two that remained would never leave. Corvus had marked him far too deeply to erase the crow-wolf’s sign.

He smiled fondly at her. Enkiel was almost too cold in his reptilian detachment from his patients, having no mercy for those who needed coddled or cared for emotionally. His jackal-born cousin had warned Ezekiel of this when he had spoken to him about Talitha. He did not heal minds, only bodies. Yet something about Alaine, either her pleasant face or deep eyes, it convinced him that she would heal as Fatin had. The offer was met with a pleased tilt of the head. “Only if you would have me,” he replied, turning forward as the trees gave way.

The landscape reminded him of Inferni, though the grass here was green and not tan, and lacked the rocky terrain he was so familiar with. Still, it was pleasant to look at. Most of the world he had seen outside of his home was made up of thick forests or crumbling ruins. “I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,” he muttered, recalling one of the poems from a dog-eared book he had saved from the library and read along the way home.

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