Arisen from my dreaming to such an alarm, I could hear not but my heart; blood running my veins. My guide, she stood still with locking gaze. If one could give silence after such an intimate use of blade then I should expect no word from her barren lips, but the complacency of these waking dreams – I still embrace to the warmth of such a cold chance – She cut her gaze towards East. I presume we are behind and without time. Yet she remains stoically leveled. For reason I could not discern, I sense this disconcerting calm would soon be stirred. She moves and simultaneously I alert to the falling of limbs cracking through the unsettled quiet of the wood. Her hand placed upon the trunk of a massive Wilder tree, not even a flinch as the splinters flew about the air whiffing her hair. Looking upon her demeanor I seem to replicate it. It’s as if every step she takes, every hand placed, works to awaken some great image within me. I feel urged to welcome it.
There is a reason we tread with a hop in our step.
She’s beautiful. I state it simply because there is no complexity in notion; but her smile. It casts mystery, and with that shadows o’er complexity; as her presence makes certain that she is awakened to some truth to which I am yet asleep. I shant press her to answer, as our silence in travel seems to be such, alluding to my motioning mind, liken to a light which one’s eyes can not catch, yet warmth and fire can be felt, I revel in this flame, as if it is a certainty, one that I know will come to faith if given the life to nourish to a peak and fruit upon my tongue, or hers. But I am brought to water, that she is of few breaths raised for ear. I lose train of thought, and feel as though touched upon shoulder by breath, her voice, but my body is not given sense; only perceived by the consciousness. Her voice resounds the walls of my sanctuary; I can not give word to an infatuation only given life by my vision’s desire to incept a voice as truthful as light. My mind dances between waves of aether and as my body seems free of all physical restraint, I am shattered all at once as I come alert, a body awaken; She, the beauty that has yet to give voice to quench my thirst, has drawn my blood. Awakening me from a calm, my attentiveness required. I pause in hopes of word exchange, none come my way. I perplex of a women who would sink blade to open eye all without pass of one word. To think I’ve not even spoken to raise cause and may too soon have found the bad side of such beautiful flawlessness. My body is once again at calm, but to my observable perception I can conceive no motive from her. She refuses to give me word of our direction all I can gather is East.
I hope you know I could only be here so long,
It may not be enough of me to keep you strong,
but your troubles are not for me to solve
I’m sorry I can’t be the one for you,
I can’t muster the strength for what you must do
Heroes fight losing battles, they are manipulated, and too often receive nothing–not even success–for their trouble. Yet heroes fight on, because some battles need to be fought.These are the incorruptible, the charitable, the fearless. These are the paladins.