/A.N. Hello everyone! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I really appreciate it! I'm still working out a writing style so it may be rough. I do not own this franchise, nor anything related to it. Thank you again! - Blue/
Hot, sweat, shivering. That was how he awoke from this one. Panic already raised in his rapidly beating heart as he conjured an orb of light so he could look about his room. Rows of books from times long past lined up in rows on his shelves, the dark, wooden floor with the same gleam of being waxed, the slanted ceiling and the wall having shadows dance around the edges of them due to the pulsing but present light of the orb in the air above him. His dark hair clinging to the back of his neck.
Every sound prominent, entrapping his thoughts. The hasty thumping of his heart, the quick breaths passing his lips, every creak, squeak and thud of the house, every chirp or coo of a bird. The sensation of it was disturbing, and oh how his skin crawled. He recalled the flames, the faces he saw in them. .The faces of the lost, so many. Too many. All let down, unsaved.
Why couldn't he have done anything with all of this power? Some he never even got to say farewell to a final time. Friends, family, comrades - all of them lost to the passage of time. His childhood friend, his father, with time his mentor, mother and all the rest had died too. Even the prat's image had haunted him. Everyone, and yet he was the only one who remembered them as they were.
Their legend- yes, it was his too, was distorted into a fable, less and less accurate as history went on. Taking the lives of him, his friend, their triumphs, sacrifices, lives, and all else into the modern tale of a king and his knights. Sure, he'd tried to set straight the record, but not much could be done without giving himself away. He pushed aside his blanket and started pacing around his room in his nightclothes ( simple , loose grey ones ).
So, he'd gone on determined to do something. Many years had come and past already. He needed to do something- anything to distract himself from these nightmares. Clearly practicing different skills hadn't been sufficient enough, meditation hadn't worked, even the dreamcatchers had failed - all 24! Then it hit him. He grabbed his trusty neckerchief, enchanted many times over to stay intact, and tied it around his neck.
Then, he pulled up a floorboard and carefully grabbed the book safely stored beneath. He flipped through the worn pages of ancient script until he found what he was looking for. Reading the words and seeing what was required he went to the kitchen and grabbed what he was looking for. He then donned a jacket and his shoes before walking out into the cool night, just about half an hour before the sun would.
The moon's luminous reflection on the still, mirror-like surface of the lake greeted him as the wind softly sang a song while it blew gently through the trees. An owl called out to him and he turned to look at it before continuing with his work. He walked down until he was almost next to the shore of the lake. It was time to put his plan into motion.
He looked down a his hand where he waxy surface of the candle met his skin. He placed it on the ground beside him. His eyes flashed gold whilst he spoke words of a language long ago lost to all but him. The candle was alight. Once more his eyes glowed a golden color and more words were spoken. Candles covered the area around the lake.
They lit up the night in a way no normal candle could on it's own, and, if you looked at it just the right way you could see the light reflected off of blue eyes and a tear that rolled down the face of a person of times long past as they said goodbye and paid respect to those fallen who were dear to his heart.