03-04-2008, 04:50 PM
[html]
indent The Sight was gone, nearly completely. His visions had faded in the years of drink and drug abuse, but prophets never completely forget themselves. Ahren knew she was here because he sensed her. His daughter’s voice spoke in his head, though the sound carried vibration and came from not that far off. He couldn’t remember when he first came to this spot or when he had stopped moving, but it had been a long time. Waiting, like the elder gods and beasts of old, as if knowing something was to come. She arrived at the borders looking so familiar that it drove something sharp and cold into his chest, trying to crush it from the inside out. It was Jasper, though, the only son who had not abandoned his father (for reasons Ahren did not understand) who found her.
indent He watched. He waited. There was a moment he was sure that she had seen him, but he made no sign of it. Indeed, it was not until after she fell and Jasper went running to find him that he moved, drawn by her voice. Three solid, certain steps brought him into her line of sight and he could only marvel at how closely she looked like her mother. Time had changed them both—no longer did he have the dirty, long hair. His tattoo had long since faded to a dull yellow, like a dirty sun, and his scars were aging. The only constants that had not changed were the necklace he wore and the way he carried himself. Ahren’s pride, his ego, they would never be broken. They were the only things he had left. “Are you all right?”
indent He watched. He waited. There was a moment he was sure that she had seen him, but he made no sign of it. Indeed, it was not until after she fell and Jasper went running to find him that he moved, drawn by her voice. Three solid, certain steps brought him into her line of sight and he could only marvel at how closely she looked like her mother. Time had changed them both—no longer did he have the dirty, long hair. His tattoo had long since faded to a dull yellow, like a dirty sun, and his scars were aging. The only constants that had not changed were the necklace he wore and the way he carried himself. Ahren’s pride, his ego, they would never be broken. They were the only things he had left. “Are you all right?”