Post by Tandar on Dec 23, 2009 22:02:20 GMT -5
2 Years Later
In the shadow of a large oak tree, three hooded figures stood motionless under the sun's fading light. Their formal midnight blue and white regalia were a stark contrast against the bright green of spring. Each wore a metal triangular insignia marking him as a member of the Triad of Four as well as a ceremonial blade. After a moment of silence marred only by the singing of the birds, one of them spoke.
"As we gather here today, we remember our calling, our vocation, our brother."
His steady gaze fell from the hooded faces to the body of a man lying prone on a pyre of dry branches and twigs.
"Death has claimed one of us; wrapped our brother in his cold, clammy embrace. This is a sad occasion, but it is also one of renewal. For today we renew our resolve to fulfill our mission. This is a chance for recovery, a dedication to heroes long gone, a lament for the fallen. We promise to continue our work with restored determination in memory of our brother. His death will not be in vain. This day, we call to mind his courage, his dedication, his loyalty, and most of all his friendship. With our unwavering support, we send you forth."
As the speaker finished, the assassin to his left drew his decorated sword and stepped forward. Prying apart the fingers of the fallen, he placed the weapon in the lifeless hands, orienting the blade toward his feet. He reverently stepped back while the brother to the right of the speaker advanced bearing a burning torch.
The assassin tossed the torch onto the pyre, and the wood immediately caught fire. The flames spread quickly, licking at the body momentarily before engulfing it. The sun set, dropping below the grassy hills and darkening the sky.
After making the sign of the cross, the speaker turned and left.
"May your soul rest in peace in the land of sunny hills and quiet streams, a place not tainted by the sins of men. Your blade will be missed."
The others followed eventually, but one lingered for a while after the rest. Only when the fire had died down to a mound of glowing embers did he leave.
From out of the darkness, a mourning dove cried.
In the shadow of a large oak tree, three hooded figures stood motionless under the sun's fading light. Their formal midnight blue and white regalia were a stark contrast against the bright green of spring. Each wore a metal triangular insignia marking him as a member of the Triad of Four as well as a ceremonial blade. After a moment of silence marred only by the singing of the birds, one of them spoke.
"As we gather here today, we remember our calling, our vocation, our brother."
His steady gaze fell from the hooded faces to the body of a man lying prone on a pyre of dry branches and twigs.
"Death has claimed one of us; wrapped our brother in his cold, clammy embrace. This is a sad occasion, but it is also one of renewal. For today we renew our resolve to fulfill our mission. This is a chance for recovery, a dedication to heroes long gone, a lament for the fallen. We promise to continue our work with restored determination in memory of our brother. His death will not be in vain. This day, we call to mind his courage, his dedication, his loyalty, and most of all his friendship. With our unwavering support, we send you forth."
As the speaker finished, the assassin to his left drew his decorated sword and stepped forward. Prying apart the fingers of the fallen, he placed the weapon in the lifeless hands, orienting the blade toward his feet. He reverently stepped back while the brother to the right of the speaker advanced bearing a burning torch.
The assassin tossed the torch onto the pyre, and the wood immediately caught fire. The flames spread quickly, licking at the body momentarily before engulfing it. The sun set, dropping below the grassy hills and darkening the sky.
After making the sign of the cross, the speaker turned and left.
"May your soul rest in peace in the land of sunny hills and quiet streams, a place not tainted by the sins of men. Your blade will be missed."
The others followed eventually, but one lingered for a while after the rest. Only when the fire had died down to a mound of glowing embers did he leave.
From out of the darkness, a mourning dove cried.