CRivers
Scholar
The mist rolled back as calan awoke on the ground in the lux. His surroundings felt vaguely familiar. On one hand he felt safe and at home but on the other he felt great sadness he couldn’t understand why. There was the faintest flicker of something he wanted to do but he couldn’t bring the thought to mind. There was a sense of danger and worry to this shard. Flickers of other memories of other places and other shards came to mind; maybe one of those spirits had visited this shard, maybe they had a purpose here where ever this was.
Calan takes a deep breath to try and centre his thoughts the warmth of the sun on his face reminds him of his nightmare. The image of himself standing on a scorched battle field inside a circle of power next to a friend as they burn together over and over. Calan quickly tries to put this image out of his mind.
As he walks into the Fae forest the memory of thousands of years of a black smiths hammering comforts his thoughts, and re centres him.
Calan takes a deep breath to try and centre his thoughts the warmth of the sun on his face reminds him of his nightmare. The image of himself standing on a scorched battle field inside a circle of power next to a friend as they burn together over and over. Calan quickly tries to put this image out of his mind.
As he walks into the Fae forest the memory of thousands of years of a black smiths hammering comforts his thoughts, and re centres him.