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~The half-elf slackened her hold on the bow and arrow for the preliminary declarations of combat. Her metallic grey-blue eyes looked at Larry almost quizically. Her entire countenence was focused on puzzlement, or a deep confused hurt, like a dying animal in a trap. Her jaw previously clenched, she opened it to speak.~ "I remember those days, Larry." ~She paused, her eyes averting now to the powerful arrow clenched in her hand.~ "I remember battle and grief and pain... I remember harmony and bliss and love..." ~She shook her head with a weak smile and accompanying chuckle.~ "But most of all I remember that through it all we persevered. Through thick and thin we stood by eachother, and sought never to let our bonds die." ~Her gaze shifted to Larry.~ "But do you remember Larry? Do you remember anything of a tavern by the gate? The one you were married in? Behind which I bestowed to you the owner of a wolf pup? Where you cooked a fair batch of roadkill stew? Where Deiter ate six pop-tarts without remorse? Where Sephi cleaned tables grudgingly?" ~Her gaze narrowed and shifted to Neb.~ "Where Mistral and her sworn sister Kaz would stay? And can you recall Kaz's good friend Neb?" ~Her jaw clenched and she looked to the ground.~ "It has become apparent to me that you have forgotten the past." ~She looked at Larry.~ "And I am the bearer of the past. You of all would know this, tortured soul." ~She sighed, looking pensively at the bow and arrow.~ "And so, Larry Silverfall... You ask me here today to claim a throne. A throne that no doubt is beside you. And I stand prepared with an answer, as you tell me of the fall of good from the face of this Earth..." ~She tightened the bow string, then winced. She whispered, barely audible.~ "One where they stand, a spirit of blue, o' tortured his soul, to guide them all through." ~She looked Larry straight in the eye, pure malice tainting her gaze.~ "You have failed to guide us." ~She then let the arrow fly, aimed for Larry's heart.~
~As the arrow flew it sang, echoing painfully in the mind of the modding mage.~
Two of the fall, tears gleam silver-white, for hope of the wood, and past of the night.
One where they stand, a spirit of blue, o' tortured his soul, to guide them all through.
One collects shards, in forests of green, chaos shall reign, destiny carene.
I am the last, who seals their fate, I stand paid in red, afore the black gate.
(So is etched upon The Sealed Fate)
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