Post by dreamer on Nov 30, 2007 19:13:29 GMT -8
Why was Lilindir walking through the dead lands in the middle of an Elvin festival? Oh yes, he was here to actually honor those dead. Sure, he had abandoned most honors when he left his home in order to find Aden and kill the man that had started over, but it didn’t mean he would forget the Elvin Festival of the dead. It was at an off time, not the time of human’s or any other race might have it; he didn’t even know if this land had such a tradition. He just knew he was to honor those passed on this land and then move on. It was a single day thing and his flaming red hair seemed to catch every bit of sun that shone down as he kneeled, bowed and prayed for more than three hours. Sure, most would consider this suicide in such a time, but Lilindir had come to understand when he was needed and not. He did not serve King Osiris fully. He would respect the man and his power, he would listen to him, but he would not be his slave like so many others of his men. Lilindir of course was an Elf, but that didn’t always keep a mortal safe from such troubles.
“Lousi Huia Nsoaks Shidsa.” He muttered as he stood. In the last week or so Lilindir had seemed to change a lot. How cold he was actually showed on his features more now, them reaching the point of sharpness that most Elves needed to starve themselves for quite a while to achieve. Of course he never noticed nor cared. He was quite vain of course, but he was not obsessed. Doing his job came first and then came his goals and then came getting paid and then came his looks. Quite far back in the line from the things that were important, but they were still up there. He kneeled once again after moving ten feet away; a small line of crimson tracing his movements from the wound in his leg, but the wound was intentional. Most things involving this were intention.
Lilindir silently prayed for his father and his master, his mother and even for his brother. This was the rare time that he was really at peace, which he knew his place was not to outlive his brother and to remember that fate played cards certain ways. Lavender eyes scanned the area around him with contempt as his rose his head, crimson bangs automatically shifting to fall behind his shoulders. In the past week his hair had been cut so that the ends were even in an arc across his back and so that they fell perfectly. It didn’t mean that Lilindir wouldn’t tie his hair up though. No, that was what the Elf planned to do as soon as his stood. Taking two ribbons from his pocket he made sure to tightly tie his hair up before he tied the other, wider one around his small wound across his ankle. He looked at the symbol of peace he had made with a small smile actually gracing his features.
The smile faded quickly though as he thought of a moment between his father and his master, the last moment of their fight which had left both of them dead within a fortnight. His master had swung wide before attacking low. His father had fallen for both moves and had ended up in pain on the ground as his master mercifully ended his life by beheading the other. Of course this was after hours of fighting that had made both of them prove themselves time and time again. Lavender eyes sparkled with hatred and anger as he thought of his master stupidly turning his back and ignoring the fact that anyone who was beheaded had five seconds. Of course, blinded by fatigue he hadn’t seen the sword that had been thrown in the last second and it had pierced his side and given him a mortal wound. Lilindir clenched his fists in rage as he stalked from the sign. He didn’t need memories right now, he needed things to do, he needed the dolus sword so that he could please Osiris and avoid a trip to the Blood Chamber.
He thought of the rumors he had heard of those swords. One a traveler carried, another rest in a temple not far from where he was and one lay with the Order of Lumen while Osiris held the final one. He knew the Order had the more important one, but he also knew Aden would have placed it in a spot that no one would think of and that he would be able to make it to if a single sound of the Knights going for it. He knew his brother well. Too well for some people, but it seemed to help in his situation; after all, who else could predict what his brother could do better than Lilindir. His eyes looked upon bones that had yet to rest with a certain sadness, one that could be described as pity. A shared feeling for those, empathy as these humans seemed to call it. Lilindir did not understand it too well though.
He stood to look around him once again. You could never be too certain around here. After all, not many knew that he worked for Osiris and one could easily think that he was mourning those who had died here rather than using it as a spot for his own Festival of Elvin standards. Crazy, correct?
[/color][/center]“Lousi Huia Nsoaks Shidsa.” He muttered as he stood. In the last week or so Lilindir had seemed to change a lot. How cold he was actually showed on his features more now, them reaching the point of sharpness that most Elves needed to starve themselves for quite a while to achieve. Of course he never noticed nor cared. He was quite vain of course, but he was not obsessed. Doing his job came first and then came his goals and then came getting paid and then came his looks. Quite far back in the line from the things that were important, but they were still up there. He kneeled once again after moving ten feet away; a small line of crimson tracing his movements from the wound in his leg, but the wound was intentional. Most things involving this were intention.
Lilindir silently prayed for his father and his master, his mother and even for his brother. This was the rare time that he was really at peace, which he knew his place was not to outlive his brother and to remember that fate played cards certain ways. Lavender eyes scanned the area around him with contempt as his rose his head, crimson bangs automatically shifting to fall behind his shoulders. In the past week his hair had been cut so that the ends were even in an arc across his back and so that they fell perfectly. It didn’t mean that Lilindir wouldn’t tie his hair up though. No, that was what the Elf planned to do as soon as his stood. Taking two ribbons from his pocket he made sure to tightly tie his hair up before he tied the other, wider one around his small wound across his ankle. He looked at the symbol of peace he had made with a small smile actually gracing his features.
The smile faded quickly though as he thought of a moment between his father and his master, the last moment of their fight which had left both of them dead within a fortnight. His master had swung wide before attacking low. His father had fallen for both moves and had ended up in pain on the ground as his master mercifully ended his life by beheading the other. Of course this was after hours of fighting that had made both of them prove themselves time and time again. Lavender eyes sparkled with hatred and anger as he thought of his master stupidly turning his back and ignoring the fact that anyone who was beheaded had five seconds. Of course, blinded by fatigue he hadn’t seen the sword that had been thrown in the last second and it had pierced his side and given him a mortal wound. Lilindir clenched his fists in rage as he stalked from the sign. He didn’t need memories right now, he needed things to do, he needed the dolus sword so that he could please Osiris and avoid a trip to the Blood Chamber.
He thought of the rumors he had heard of those swords. One a traveler carried, another rest in a temple not far from where he was and one lay with the Order of Lumen while Osiris held the final one. He knew the Order had the more important one, but he also knew Aden would have placed it in a spot that no one would think of and that he would be able to make it to if a single sound of the Knights going for it. He knew his brother well. Too well for some people, but it seemed to help in his situation; after all, who else could predict what his brother could do better than Lilindir. His eyes looked upon bones that had yet to rest with a certain sadness, one that could be described as pity. A shared feeling for those, empathy as these humans seemed to call it. Lilindir did not understand it too well though.
He stood to look around him once again. You could never be too certain around here. After all, not many knew that he worked for Osiris and one could easily think that he was mourning those who had died here rather than using it as a spot for his own Festival of Elvin standards. Crazy, correct?