04-02-2012, 10:45 PM
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A little bit more to work with this time. Took some liberties with physical contact, please let me know if I need to revise.
He followed close, entranced by her voice, her eyes, her form as she led him deeper into the shadowed wood. When at last they reached their destination, he found himself surprised that it could take his eyes away from her at all, but the clearing had a serene beauty of its own, which would not be denied by any earthly fixation. The raven descended upon a low-lying branch, and the decorated skull which that branch held aloft dipped into the waters of a still pool. A faint ripple carried to the edge of the water, where Asmodai stood next to the woad-painted woman.
"It may be they will," he answered softly, drinking in the details of this secret place, this sacred place, bathed in the light of the moon. It all seemed like a dream, but if so it was one he hoped he would not wake soon. A wry smile twisted his mouth as he knelt before the water.
"But those shadows are many and strong. I come victorious from battle, alone among my comrades...both in survival and the foregone conclusion that our mission was...in error." He looked up from the placid pool and gazed into the woman's ghostly eyes.
"But too many were dead by the time I realized that. Too many had given their lives for me to turn back." So we continued on with our farce anyway, pursuing duties absent desire, exacting vengeance for the crimes of others. All to settle an argument started before we were born, between a wolf named Gronnor and his brothers in arms.
"It is the task of a warrior to do things which others will not...which others cannot...things which will have permanent and often regrettable consequences. Still, I welcome the tranquility of this pool." He looked up at the falling moon and slid his hand over the young woman's. A genuine smile came over his features, the first of what he hoped would be many more once this was all behind him.
"Thank you for bringing me here. This peace...I did not think I could feel it's like again. My name is Asmodai. I am a warrior from Greyclaw, and my task in this place is done." He turned back to face her, this ethereal spirit-woman come real at the foot of the pool. "In the morning, I think, after resting in this sanctuary, I will depart."
He squeezed her hand, glad of her presence but fearing that she would leave, every bit the ghost she claimed not to be, having delivered him to this holy place where a warrior--marked by the weight of his deeds or no--could recover from his injuries. Tomorrow, he would be solitary again. Come the dawn, he would be the lying, calculating, self-reliant warrior he needed to be to get himself back to GreyClaw in one piece. That was what he must be, if anyone from the Souls' lands gave chase. But for tonight, for right now, he was not ashamed to want her presence. He was not ashamed...because beside this pool under the light of the moon it did not feel like weakness. It felt like release. It felt like a promise of what might come tomorrow.
A little bit more to work with this time. Took some liberties with physical contact, please let me know if I need to revise.
He followed close, entranced by her voice, her eyes, her form as she led him deeper into the shadowed wood. When at last they reached their destination, he found himself surprised that it could take his eyes away from her at all, but the clearing had a serene beauty of its own, which would not be denied by any earthly fixation. The raven descended upon a low-lying branch, and the decorated skull which that branch held aloft dipped into the waters of a still pool. A faint ripple carried to the edge of the water, where Asmodai stood next to the woad-painted woman.
"It may be they will," he answered softly, drinking in the details of this secret place, this sacred place, bathed in the light of the moon. It all seemed like a dream, but if so it was one he hoped he would not wake soon. A wry smile twisted his mouth as he knelt before the water.
"But those shadows are many and strong. I come victorious from battle, alone among my comrades...both in survival and the foregone conclusion that our mission was...in error." He looked up from the placid pool and gazed into the woman's ghostly eyes.
"But too many were dead by the time I realized that. Too many had given their lives for me to turn back." So we continued on with our farce anyway, pursuing duties absent desire, exacting vengeance for the crimes of others. All to settle an argument started before we were born, between a wolf named Gronnor and his brothers in arms.
"It is the task of a warrior to do things which others will not...which others cannot...things which will have permanent and often regrettable consequences. Still, I welcome the tranquility of this pool." He looked up at the falling moon and slid his hand over the young woman's. A genuine smile came over his features, the first of what he hoped would be many more once this was all behind him.
"Thank you for bringing me here. This peace...I did not think I could feel it's like again. My name is Asmodai. I am a warrior from Greyclaw, and my task in this place is done." He turned back to face her, this ethereal spirit-woman come real at the foot of the pool. "In the morning, I think, after resting in this sanctuary, I will depart."
He squeezed her hand, glad of her presence but fearing that she would leave, every bit the ghost she claimed not to be, having delivered him to this holy place where a warrior--marked by the weight of his deeds or no--could recover from his injuries. Tomorrow, he would be solitary again. Come the dawn, he would be the lying, calculating, self-reliant warrior he needed to be to get himself back to GreyClaw in one piece. That was what he must be, if anyone from the Souls' lands gave chase. But for tonight, for right now, he was not ashamed to want her presence. He was not ashamed...because beside this pool under the light of the moon it did not feel like weakness. It felt like release. It felt like a promise of what might come tomorrow.