Falling Dust from the Saddle

[Sephiros]

As the sun rose slowly over the trees, Drek sat calmly upon his horse, looking down into what had come to be known as the kingdom of Melhane. Peering up at its silver-white walls, he watched as the sun crowned over the city like a king who had earned his coronation. The rays of the sun splayed down over the city, slowly illuminating each area in succession starting with the castle and moving downwards as each new section seeming to spring with life as the denizens of each hovel, each alley, each building and business began to be busy about their work. Each minute the traffic within the highways and the low-ways grew more vibrant with activity, until the streets were jammed to the hilt with citizens and traders, mothers and daughters, residents and visitors, all seeking to find what enjoyments the markets and shops would hold for them this day.

Taking a draw with one hand, and pulling his cloak over his eyes with the other, he squinted at the sun’s rays as they encroached into his dark territory. Watching from the still grey shadows of the oak grove, he took in everything about the city, noticing the patrols, observing each sentry and how many steps each of them took in their routine, counting the seconds between changes in direction. As tendrils of blue smoke rolled out of his nose, Shadowdancer grunted at him pleasantly, reassuring Drek that he would indeed find…something…inside the city of gleaming alabaster towers, still unaware of his presence. Giving his companion a long, gentle stroke he whispered in his ear a few words of encouragement, “What would I do without you, Shadow? Let us go to this city and see if we can find a new, fresh way of life.” With a pause of determination and a steeling of his nerves, he took the last few drags of the fresh tobbaco stick, as embers flamed anew.

I sure hope I’m right. For all I know, my mother and father may already be dead or might have died in this war I keep hearing about from time to time. Hopefully, Malganis is still alive. He was the only voice of reason in the family after grandfather passed. After a moment of quiet reflection, he cried out silently in his mind, “Where are you my brother?”

With a smooth slow grace he guided the reigns and click-clicked with his lips, guiding the whinnying stallion down the path from Musmyrr. Flicking the smoke with thumb and middle finger into a rat along the road, he started into a trot down the road to Melhane. Soon he was riding at a full gallop, still miles from the boundaries of the thriving new order that was before him, more specifically the White City. He knew it was all different, but wondered how much was still the exact same.

[Sephiros]

Moving along the path to the gates of the city, Drek held his head high. Not knowing what awaited him, he hoped that perhaps there was some chance for redemption as he had long grown tired of walking the boulevard of broken dreams the nightmares that danced in his shattered memory...longing to reclaim his former glory. Perhaps the best place to start would be appealing to the local leadership of the Company for it was there he would have the best chance to begin anew. Heading down the cobblestoned streets, he searched diligently with a sense of expedience for resolution to his wicked life.