45th of Spring
21st Bell
Rhodri was tired. He was cranky. Things had not been great since that day at the vineyard. The Eypharian was constantly having to re-enforce his spirit to do even the most simple of tasks. Working out had lost any appeal since the exile, apparently, lost his desire to impress anyone. He hadn’t shaved since that day and rarely took the time to do his hair but he did continue to maintain his more basic hygiene. The thought of being a stinking mess as he had been on his travels was not only repulsive but unacceptable. Rhodri refused to allow some tiny woman the satisfaction of breaking him entirely though there had been times when one might question if the spoiled young man was just lying to himself.
“It wasn’t that good of a kiss…” He muttered to himself as the big man dabbed at the half-dried salt lines that had stuck to his chest and arms as a result of his training earlier today. Rhodri shook his head when he caught sight of his own eyes in the small mirror that was propped up against the wall. The red on his cheeks was a visual indication of the heat that radiated from is collarbone where she had dug into his skin with her tiny, magical hands. A feeling of emptiness shot up from his waist to his chest and along the insides of his arms as the memory of holding the healer washed over him like the great waterfall. Just like the way the water plunges into the sparkling bay, the Eypharian was dropped into a sea of emotional waves that stripped away his resolve one layer at a time.
This cycle of reminiscing and denial was becoming more of a constant burden as opposed to the daily routine that it was a week ago. Rhodri gave his reflection a look as if to argue the previously uttered statement about the kiss. “Of course, it was good. It was me!” He shut his eyes and punched the wall with his lower left fist. And it was her… The desert brat lowered his head and set down his towel. He felt stupid for having this discussion yet again. The man inside the body of the godkin was mourning the loss while the divinely-inspired and power hungry tyrant was shouting praises from that place of arrogance that was buried deep down inside. The woman had been a distraction to the gold-skinned being. His destiny was to forge onward and use this time to learn how to stand on his own. The Eypharian knew there was strength in his family but if he truly wanted to become a ruler – and he did – he would need to find a way to separate himself from the house’s influence. The aristocrat’s banishment was just the right motivation that was needed. Now, on his own and learning more about the world, Rhodri could learn his true potential and make good on his namesake; Famously Powerful.
Enough was enough. Rhodri gathered his punching dagger and tucked it into his belt. Syna was nearly set and the city had grown darker but there was still a shadow that loomed nearby; one that beckoned to the man with six arms. He had learned of the patron god of Riverfall, Wyser, from the time he spent in the library. Still in his blue pants and black boots, the man slung his big cloak about his neck and broad shoulders then headed out his door. The air was already cooler than before and the desert brat suspected the temperature would continue to drop as Leth made his way across the sky. It was of no matter. The Eypharian had grown curious of the so-called god of discipline. There was a part of him that believed the man who beat him on the road had been blessed by Wyser. It would explain the course of the fight which was very vivid in Rhodri’s mind. He had never been bested so completely.
With long strides, the tall man moved around his residence and along the road to the north. Even in the grey of twilight, the massive structure beckoned with its blue aura that scarcely lit the many windows which were nestled into the cliffside. The way there was bound to be difficult but Rhodri needed that kind of challenge tonight. He was after the hard knock cure for distractions and the only tool he had ever been shown for such circumstances; pain.
Rhodri stood at the bottom of the cliff and looked up. Climbing without any knowledge of such things might be dangerous but doing so in the darkening night was just plain foolish. A growl rippled from his gut and up his chest before finally escaping his throat in a short but powerful bark. To alleviate his frustrations, the exile took a half step back with his right foot and unleashed a series of combos from his hands. He slapped at the flat surface of the cliff with left-right-left and left-right-right style connections –always seeking to the hit the same small circle. The young man pounded way at the cool stone until the butts of his hands began to ache and then stopped. His rib was hurting as his breath heaved in and out of his diaphragm.
Rhodri decided to just head home so he followed the road back towards his apartment in Kuahala Estates. It was only on his return that he noticed something strange across the way. The City Council building was magnificent with its tiered domes and bejeweled pathways but tonight was different. In the odd haze of light between sun and moon, the glow of the gems was minimal but there still enough to note how the shadows seemed to be moving along the entrance to the property and near the main entrance. For a moment, the Eypharian debated leaving the matter for someone else to deal with but his foul mood sought the chance to unload a bit of hatred on a vagrant or vandal –whatever the case may be. The tall man placed his left middle hand upon the dagger in his belt and he crouched down some near the edge of the road. Stealth was not much in his favor, given his size, but Rhodri decided to move more slowly and stick to the edge of the path were he better blended in with the landscaping. As he peered around a well-manicured bush, the six-armed fellow nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice broke his concentration.
“Haven’t seen one like you in a long time.” The voice was hollow and deep as if it rumbled from the caverns of the world, itself. Rhodri turned around but saw no one for some time. He looked in the trees and bushes, up and down the path but still found no other person besides himself. “Up here.” The voice spoke calmly. In the middle of the path was a podium that separated one side from the other. There were many which lined the way to the chambers where Riverfallians made many important decisions. Seated upon the top of this six foot platform was the bust of a powerful warhorse. The beast blew air through its stone nose and shook out its mane. “Give it a chime.” Rhodri’s jaw dropped open.
The voice belonged to the statue!
21st Bell
Rhodri was tired. He was cranky. Things had not been great since that day at the vineyard. The Eypharian was constantly having to re-enforce his spirit to do even the most simple of tasks. Working out had lost any appeal since the exile, apparently, lost his desire to impress anyone. He hadn’t shaved since that day and rarely took the time to do his hair but he did continue to maintain his more basic hygiene. The thought of being a stinking mess as he had been on his travels was not only repulsive but unacceptable. Rhodri refused to allow some tiny woman the satisfaction of breaking him entirely though there had been times when one might question if the spoiled young man was just lying to himself.
“It wasn’t that good of a kiss…” He muttered to himself as the big man dabbed at the half-dried salt lines that had stuck to his chest and arms as a result of his training earlier today. Rhodri shook his head when he caught sight of his own eyes in the small mirror that was propped up against the wall. The red on his cheeks was a visual indication of the heat that radiated from is collarbone where she had dug into his skin with her tiny, magical hands. A feeling of emptiness shot up from his waist to his chest and along the insides of his arms as the memory of holding the healer washed over him like the great waterfall. Just like the way the water plunges into the sparkling bay, the Eypharian was dropped into a sea of emotional waves that stripped away his resolve one layer at a time.
This cycle of reminiscing and denial was becoming more of a constant burden as opposed to the daily routine that it was a week ago. Rhodri gave his reflection a look as if to argue the previously uttered statement about the kiss. “Of course, it was good. It was me!” He shut his eyes and punched the wall with his lower left fist. And it was her… The desert brat lowered his head and set down his towel. He felt stupid for having this discussion yet again. The man inside the body of the godkin was mourning the loss while the divinely-inspired and power hungry tyrant was shouting praises from that place of arrogance that was buried deep down inside. The woman had been a distraction to the gold-skinned being. His destiny was to forge onward and use this time to learn how to stand on his own. The Eypharian knew there was strength in his family but if he truly wanted to become a ruler – and he did – he would need to find a way to separate himself from the house’s influence. The aristocrat’s banishment was just the right motivation that was needed. Now, on his own and learning more about the world, Rhodri could learn his true potential and make good on his namesake; Famously Powerful.
Enough was enough. Rhodri gathered his punching dagger and tucked it into his belt. Syna was nearly set and the city had grown darker but there was still a shadow that loomed nearby; one that beckoned to the man with six arms. He had learned of the patron god of Riverfall, Wyser, from the time he spent in the library. Still in his blue pants and black boots, the man slung his big cloak about his neck and broad shoulders then headed out his door. The air was already cooler than before and the desert brat suspected the temperature would continue to drop as Leth made his way across the sky. It was of no matter. The Eypharian had grown curious of the so-called god of discipline. There was a part of him that believed the man who beat him on the road had been blessed by Wyser. It would explain the course of the fight which was very vivid in Rhodri’s mind. He had never been bested so completely.
With long strides, the tall man moved around his residence and along the road to the north. Even in the grey of twilight, the massive structure beckoned with its blue aura that scarcely lit the many windows which were nestled into the cliffside. The way there was bound to be difficult but Rhodri needed that kind of challenge tonight. He was after the hard knock cure for distractions and the only tool he had ever been shown for such circumstances; pain.
Rhodri stood at the bottom of the cliff and looked up. Climbing without any knowledge of such things might be dangerous but doing so in the darkening night was just plain foolish. A growl rippled from his gut and up his chest before finally escaping his throat in a short but powerful bark. To alleviate his frustrations, the exile took a half step back with his right foot and unleashed a series of combos from his hands. He slapped at the flat surface of the cliff with left-right-left and left-right-right style connections –always seeking to the hit the same small circle. The young man pounded way at the cool stone until the butts of his hands began to ache and then stopped. His rib was hurting as his breath heaved in and out of his diaphragm.
Rhodri decided to just head home so he followed the road back towards his apartment in Kuahala Estates. It was only on his return that he noticed something strange across the way. The City Council building was magnificent with its tiered domes and bejeweled pathways but tonight was different. In the odd haze of light between sun and moon, the glow of the gems was minimal but there still enough to note how the shadows seemed to be moving along the entrance to the property and near the main entrance. For a moment, the Eypharian debated leaving the matter for someone else to deal with but his foul mood sought the chance to unload a bit of hatred on a vagrant or vandal –whatever the case may be. The tall man placed his left middle hand upon the dagger in his belt and he crouched down some near the edge of the road. Stealth was not much in his favor, given his size, but Rhodri decided to move more slowly and stick to the edge of the path were he better blended in with the landscaping. As he peered around a well-manicured bush, the six-armed fellow nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice broke his concentration.
“Haven’t seen one like you in a long time.” The voice was hollow and deep as if it rumbled from the caverns of the world, itself. Rhodri turned around but saw no one for some time. He looked in the trees and bushes, up and down the path but still found no other person besides himself. “Up here.” The voice spoke calmly. In the middle of the path was a podium that separated one side from the other. There were many which lined the way to the chambers where Riverfallians made many important decisions. Seated upon the top of this six foot platform was the bust of a powerful warhorse. The beast blew air through its stone nose and shook out its mane. “Give it a chime.” Rhodri’s jaw dropped open.
The voice belonged to the statue!