The oceans rose and ebbed at the turning of the moon, time passed in steady ticks, and yet so removed from the rhythm of life perhaps Tor'Traith had almost forgotten what it was that pulled heavy soled boots forward. Long had it been since wander lust had its will driven within the mans very being, that perhaps its very name had been lost within the clouds of years passage. Yet it was here, under the moons light which tore through the wooden fingers, did at last realization strike inside the confines of the often all to stubborn mind of exactly what to nights task was.
Searching, yes that is what we are doing, but the question wasn't the act... the question, my dear friend, was the goal. Perhaps it was the water lapping at the dark shores, perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was the strings of fate that make us all dance, but no matter the reason, it was now that hazel eyes were found up lifted to the star spattered heavens in hope that voiceless prayers would be answered. Two days, in which a tired mind could label as nothing more then tiresome, had this stranger once again discovered these restless lands, and in vain attempt to recapture what was lost... every moment awake seemed another wasted. Memories haunt the best of us, and for this simple man there was no solace from these traps which clung to thoughts like dreadful phantoms. Every inn entered, every breath taken, every drink that touched his lips... never seemed to be as sweet as thoughts claimed them to be in the past. Perhaps that is why as steps slowed and a fog of self indulgence cleared, did brown boots have the black grains of volcanic sand to welcome the new arrival.
It was the water, of course, that so many times has the undertow of life drive every step unknowingly towards the certain destination of a nearby lake, or stream. If there was any constant in this god forsaken world that this stranger found, it was the calming glimmer of a waters surface, and tonight it would seem there was no difference. It is true humans are creatures of habit, and one of Traiths was that of not to be noticed, but no matter how open it felt.. the flickers of moonlight across the surface beckoned. That single moment hesitation at the woods edge was enough, that small breath of time considering the threat of being in the open offered, it had happened. Without further thought of it, boots carried on, pulling him relentlessly towards the lakes promising edge, gaze sinking against the liquid surface begging for the answers that time and again stars and moon had failed to answer. Tangled in old cloth of cheap dye, the smokey hue of the worn cloak stood out in broad contrast to this unworldly beach, all but confirming the strangers thoughts of self.. for these past few days here, simply put... Traith was a ghost of the past.
No names leapt to lips as quietly those strides passed others in the streets, and yes even those once familiar places seemed to have changed. Stubbly chin tucked low against the high collar, allowing the hushed whispers of the slumbering world to bath clean the growing clutch of resentment. It was a mistake to have come back, it was wrong to think that things would not change, a childish thought if there was ever one, but then things were more difficult these days.. meshed thoughts leaving only confusion in their wake. Of course the cave would have it no other way, but at least for this moment Traith was here. It was hard for a man not to cast a shadow across ones own life, but as slowly as attention cast itself into the depths of the dark waters did with soft words the promise fall past his lips. Perhaps judgment should be given by these waters, unbound by the taint of which the stranger was all to familiar with.. perhaps the strings have set the destination here for that reason.. perhaps the story will find its close where it started.. in Rhydin.
Searching, yes that is what we are doing, but the question wasn't the act... the question, my dear friend, was the goal. Perhaps it was the water lapping at the dark shores, perhaps it was luck, perhaps it was the strings of fate that make us all dance, but no matter the reason, it was now that hazel eyes were found up lifted to the star spattered heavens in hope that voiceless prayers would be answered. Two days, in which a tired mind could label as nothing more then tiresome, had this stranger once again discovered these restless lands, and in vain attempt to recapture what was lost... every moment awake seemed another wasted. Memories haunt the best of us, and for this simple man there was no solace from these traps which clung to thoughts like dreadful phantoms. Every inn entered, every breath taken, every drink that touched his lips... never seemed to be as sweet as thoughts claimed them to be in the past. Perhaps that is why as steps slowed and a fog of self indulgence cleared, did brown boots have the black grains of volcanic sand to welcome the new arrival.
It was the water, of course, that so many times has the undertow of life drive every step unknowingly towards the certain destination of a nearby lake, or stream. If there was any constant in this god forsaken world that this stranger found, it was the calming glimmer of a waters surface, and tonight it would seem there was no difference. It is true humans are creatures of habit, and one of Traiths was that of not to be noticed, but no matter how open it felt.. the flickers of moonlight across the surface beckoned. That single moment hesitation at the woods edge was enough, that small breath of time considering the threat of being in the open offered, it had happened. Without further thought of it, boots carried on, pulling him relentlessly towards the lakes promising edge, gaze sinking against the liquid surface begging for the answers that time and again stars and moon had failed to answer. Tangled in old cloth of cheap dye, the smokey hue of the worn cloak stood out in broad contrast to this unworldly beach, all but confirming the strangers thoughts of self.. for these past few days here, simply put... Traith was a ghost of the past.
No names leapt to lips as quietly those strides passed others in the streets, and yes even those once familiar places seemed to have changed. Stubbly chin tucked low against the high collar, allowing the hushed whispers of the slumbering world to bath clean the growing clutch of resentment. It was a mistake to have come back, it was wrong to think that things would not change, a childish thought if there was ever one, but then things were more difficult these days.. meshed thoughts leaving only confusion in their wake. Of course the cave would have it no other way, but at least for this moment Traith was here. It was hard for a man not to cast a shadow across ones own life, but as slowly as attention cast itself into the depths of the dark waters did with soft words the promise fall past his lips. Perhaps judgment should be given by these waters, unbound by the taint of which the stranger was all to familiar with.. perhaps the strings have set the destination here for that reason.. perhaps the story will find its close where it started.. in Rhydin.