Noraan stood before the Dancer's gate of fog, its bleak curtain reflecting the bitter emptiness of his soul, its trembling wisps as purposeless as he, as confused, as weary. He lowered his gaze, looking upon the softly radiant glyphs etched before that morose gate, each glowing with potential, casting the empty figure of the Ashen they represented.
"I bid thee aid me in my eternal quest." Noraan murmured, kneeling and placing a hand atop the nearest glyph, flaring the ember within, beckoning across the layered reality to the hopeful Ashen beyond. It had been years since he fought with another at his side, perhaps their company would lessen his suffering as the amputation of a dead limb lightened the cripple's step. From the glowing coals rose a figure garbed in honeyed cloak and amber plate, the Sun's light burning within him. Beneath unruly hair of black stained gold in the brilliant if contained light, his eyes of pale sapphire locked with those of Noraan.
Aleorn: As I read this, my heart stopped as surely as if suddenly wrought of stone. My comrade, my dear friend, knew this man before. Or'do was kinder than he gave himself credit, for long before he met me, he was aiding others.
Or'do bowed, sweeping back his cloak and revealing armour of stone bound with chain. The unstoppable Havel had been crushed, and his garb taken as much for protection as acclaim.
"Why so... dull?" Or'do asked, cocking his head. "Are we not about to slay another Lord?"
"We are, and that is precisely why I have nearly lost the will to press on." Noraan wilted beneath the intensity of this newcomer's gaze. "What?"
"Your words resonate with me." Or'do clasped the man's shoulder, the Ember's light rippling from Noraan's flesh, leaking through Or'do's fingers. "For I once felt the same. Why bother with it all, why slay the Lords when another plane will be born, and upon it new Lords as tiresome and despicable as these? Why even make so many planes if each is nothing more than a copy?"
"Indeed." Noraan said, cautious now.
"The latter I have not yet answered, and do not really care to." Shrugging away Noraan's incredulous stare, Or'do pressed on. "The former however, is as simple as this: I slay the Lords and reap their power, perhaps only a fraction of it, but I have done so a thousand times over-"
"-As have I, Or'do." Noraan struggled with the word, having known it from the glyphs, yet not how precisely to shape it. "That is precisely why I despair."
"And where you must learn to overcome the walls erected by your own hand. This life of ours is eternal, our purpose predestined. Yet you are not powerless to change it. I have given myself purpose, given myself a reason to press on when all seems hopeless."
"What might that be?"
"I cannot tell you." Or'do cocked his head again, grinning infectiously. "Because your destiny is yours, and mine is not the place to define it"
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