Prologue: Valley of the Wind
The wind, cold and furious, whipped through the broken archways and crumbled buildings of the city, through colonies of vagrants and homeless, weeds and trees, and through the hair of a lone figure leaning against a preserved piece of a coliseum's pillar.
He, for indeed the figure was male, raised his hand before his face and let the wind play through his splayed fingers, staring at his hand with an almost childlike fascination. Cold. Yes, he knew all about cold.
Cold like the place between places. Cold like the sky. Cold like the shining blue of eyes. There was a great deal to know about cold, and he had more than his fair share of experience. Cold, like back then.
The brows of the figure furrowed under a long mane of silky brown hair, as he made an effort to bring forth what he sought from the corridors of his mind. Remembering the other place was hard.harder each time he tried. But there were a few things he could still see easily.
A blue-haired creature with the heart of a man and the body of a demon. A killer with an innocent soul. Riding along for one, traveling with two, and under the gaze of many.
A blue eyed girl with a fiery spirit filled with hope. Being one, but also being a legion at the same time.
A leather-clad knight with a coy smile and a wicked unyielding blade. One who was once another, after the winter.
Brothers and sisters, with hate and love bound.
And most clearly of all a blue wolf with whom to chase the wind, with eyes of fire and the soul of a savior. Of life, death, rebirth, and another death. Of the cold, between place, and now here.
A tear slowly worked its way down his cheek, and was consumed by the hungry mouth of the blowing wind. Unconcerned and uncaring, the figure took his only possession, the only thing from There that was his, or that mattered anymore, and began to work his way out of the ruins, to do what his heart asked of him. To chase the wind. With a fluid motion, he heaved himself over the edge of the opening and was gone.
The wind, cold and furious, whipped through the broken archways and crumbled buildings of the city, through colonies of vagrants and homeless, weeds and trees, and through the hair of a lone figure leaning against a preserved piece of a coliseum's pillar.
He, for indeed the figure was male, raised his hand before his face and let the wind play through his splayed fingers, staring at his hand with an almost childlike fascination. Cold. Yes, he knew all about cold.
Cold like the place between places. Cold like the sky. Cold like the shining blue of eyes. There was a great deal to know about cold, and he had more than his fair share of experience. Cold, like back then.
The brows of the figure furrowed under a long mane of silky brown hair, as he made an effort to bring forth what he sought from the corridors of his mind. Remembering the other place was hard.harder each time he tried. But there were a few things he could still see easily.
A blue-haired creature with the heart of a man and the body of a demon. A killer with an innocent soul. Riding along for one, traveling with two, and under the gaze of many.
A blue eyed girl with a fiery spirit filled with hope. Being one, but also being a legion at the same time.
A leather-clad knight with a coy smile and a wicked unyielding blade. One who was once another, after the winter.
Brothers and sisters, with hate and love bound.
And most clearly of all a blue wolf with whom to chase the wind, with eyes of fire and the soul of a savior. Of life, death, rebirth, and another death. Of the cold, between place, and now here.
A tear slowly worked its way down his cheek, and was consumed by the hungry mouth of the blowing wind. Unconcerned and uncaring, the figure took his only possession, the only thing from There that was his, or that mattered anymore, and began to work his way out of the ruins, to do what his heart asked of him. To chase the wind. With a fluid motion, he heaved himself over the edge of the opening and was gone.