Post by Lasair Landevier Lupen on Mar 8, 2016 7:37:50 GMT
Open to Sayvahn
The town of Castamere looked lovely today. It was calm, but a little cloudy. There might be rain, but probably not. The clouds should hold their liquid today. The angel on to the side, forever crying, was a trademark to the people who called this place home. It was an symbol for those who didn’t. A reminder even, to those times before anders came to exist. A lady with wings used to be a divine message. Now it was a demon’s curse.
Lasair was in this town, near the railroad track. He was running, following along the train. Back behind him was Edelweiss, Sayvahn, and the twins. They were looking after him, confused as to why he suddenly took off. But he knew why he ran. And he never could quite run fast enough. But he ran anyway, casting all the Speed magic he had in him, trying to get there, to the church. But with every step he took, it did not come any closer to him. That is, not until an explosion pierced through the air. When that happened, he stopped in his tracks, the church right in front of him. There, in the shadow of the building, stood his parents. They were talking to someone there. But it wasn’t the EIRAL soldier, it was Viktor. The building was hit by a blast. The top of it broke off and was falling down. Lasair tried to move forward, to reach out, to cast magic, to do something, anything, but he was frozen in place. He was forced to watch as the hunk of church fell to the ground and turned the people he loved into nothing more than a memory.
He sat up in his small bed, a screech emitting from his throat for the briefest of moments before he calmed himself. Wiping the sweat from his face with a shaking hand, he looked to the side, eyes adjusting to the moonlight coming in from his window. It was still night, middle of the night. And here the guild leader was, waking up in a sweat from a terrible nightmare. One of the three he had been having lately. Well, at the very least he had gotten maybe an hour or two of sleep. It was something. It was enough. Turning to the side, he swung his legs out of bed and fumbled around at his nightstand, trying to locate the matches for the candle.
The town of Castamere looked lovely today. It was calm, but a little cloudy. There might be rain, but probably not. The clouds should hold their liquid today. The angel on to the side, forever crying, was a trademark to the people who called this place home. It was an symbol for those who didn’t. A reminder even, to those times before anders came to exist. A lady with wings used to be a divine message. Now it was a demon’s curse.
Lasair was in this town, near the railroad track. He was running, following along the train. Back behind him was Edelweiss, Sayvahn, and the twins. They were looking after him, confused as to why he suddenly took off. But he knew why he ran. And he never could quite run fast enough. But he ran anyway, casting all the Speed magic he had in him, trying to get there, to the church. But with every step he took, it did not come any closer to him. That is, not until an explosion pierced through the air. When that happened, he stopped in his tracks, the church right in front of him. There, in the shadow of the building, stood his parents. They were talking to someone there. But it wasn’t the EIRAL soldier, it was Viktor. The building was hit by a blast. The top of it broke off and was falling down. Lasair tried to move forward, to reach out, to cast magic, to do something, anything, but he was frozen in place. He was forced to watch as the hunk of church fell to the ground and turned the people he loved into nothing more than a memory.
He sat up in his small bed, a screech emitting from his throat for the briefest of moments before he calmed himself. Wiping the sweat from his face with a shaking hand, he looked to the side, eyes adjusting to the moonlight coming in from his window. It was still night, middle of the night. And here the guild leader was, waking up in a sweat from a terrible nightmare. One of the three he had been having lately. Well, at the very least he had gotten maybe an hour or two of sleep. It was something. It was enough. Turning to the side, he swung his legs out of bed and fumbled around at his nightstand, trying to locate the matches for the candle.