The priest wandered aimlessly inside the ancient pyramids near the town of Morroc. It was one of those days when he wants to be alone, away from the pressure of his parents and away from his fiancée, Lady Keira. She has been busy with the wedding plans like everybody in Prontera. Everybody, that is, except the groom himself.
The wedding that he has been dreading for takes place within two months; but they have been planning it for years.
'Whoever does arranged marriages anymore,' he grumbled quietly to himself.
It was his parents as well as Keira's parents to wed them. It isn't that Keira was a desirable woman to marry. She's an attractive, exuberant woman who has such expressive green eyes that can sweep you away with that lingering look of hers. Her long auburn hair, which is often seen in a ponytail, reaches up to her waits. She is often underestimated because of her small-framed body yet she is one of the best knights the Prontera army has seen.
He, on the other hand, has bright blue eyes that seem unusual with his pale skin. He is tall, standing around six feet but skinny for his age. His unkempt short brown hair seems irresistible to some girls to mess it up even more.
Anybody would've killed to be in his shoes and he'd be glad to trade. He just can't imagine marrying someone who reminds him so much of the girl who left him behind.
He could still remember clearly the first time they met. It was a Thursday afternoon, a few days after he was officially ordained as an acolyte. He wanted some time to himself because ever since he became an acolyte, people have been swarming all over him, asking for a heal or a blessing. At first, he obliged but after quite some time, it became tiring and often annoying.
He chuckled at himself as he remembered himself as a naïve and a selfish acolyte back then.
He kept on walking through the forest of Prontera as thought occupied his head. He didn't care where he was going as long as it was away from the busy city. He managed to dodge a group of novices fighting off porings and lunatics as well as a group of archers sniping at the top of the cliff.
He only realized he had strayed far enough was when he could not hear the chirping of the birds or the sway of the trees. He looked at his feet and what he saw surprised him.
'Sograt Desert,' a whisper only he himself could hear.
He had heard of the place yet he had never seen it before. All he knows is that it leads to Morroc, a place where assassins and rogues dwell. His father had warned him never to go there alone. He dismissed the guilty feeling and continued walking forward.
Just then, a thief caught his eye. Most of her long brown hair was pulled into a messy ponytail while some locks cling to her face, framing delicate features. Her gray eyes were filled with a strange determination he had never seen a child of her age possessing them. Her pale arms bore cuts and bruises yet she whacked Pickys without hesitation with her rusty main gauche. Without thinking twice, he healed her.
She looked relieved. She stood up straighter and a smile broke into her face.
"Thanks." She walked away.
He stopped short. He had not come across an enemy for a while. It took him awhile to notice a band of mummies going into one direction.
'Someone's being mobbed.'
He boosted his agility and prepared to help the person in need.