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Novus closed 10/31/2022, after The Gentle Exodus

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Arluin
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   He had been validated, knighted a warrior of Dusk, and he wore that mantle with a sense of pride. He was merely one of several, of course, but still he felt as if he had firmly, truly, set his foot down upon the path of his destiny. All things began with a small step, after all. Another young warrior, Damascus, had requested a spar with him, and so Arluin had agreed eagerly. It would do him good to gradually test out the competition, to test those he would call his brothers-in-arms, to assure himself and them that when the world became grim and they fought side-by-side, the bonds of brotherhood would not fail.

   He and Damascus took separate paths, and Arluin was not against it. There would be time to travel back together after the spar, this time apart would be essential for the grey to orientate himself, to settle into the familiar mentality of a warrior before the fight. He took a longer route, across the Elutheria Plain on his way to the Steppe, knowing full well it could perhaps make him a bit late... ah, but no matter. Perhaps it would psych Damascus out.

   The thought made him chuckle, a low sound as he strolled across the seemingly endless sea of grass, feeling it tickle his underbelly as he passed. His blue gaze roamed over the verdant fields, idle in his thoughts until a form standing in the distance drew his gaze. It wasn't just because the figure was the only other thing to break the monotony of the field, but because the way they stood just seemed... dark, as if the vast sky above weighed on their shoulders. He angled his stride, moving with intent towards the other, catching the scent of mare and baked earth on the breeze. She was pale, sandy tones mingling with earthier ones, and to his inner relief she bore on her brow a horn of pale blue. Another unicorn, at last. He had almost thought his ilk didn't roam this land. "Hail!" His baritone rolled out in greeting, his elegant neck arching in a bow as he came to a halt alongside her, blue eyes quiet but gentle. "I am glad to see another soul, I thought I'd be stuck wandering this endless moor alone forever."

   His ears pricked, head tilting in curiosity as he took in her haggard appearance. She indeed looked as if the world was borne on her withers, the weight of sorrow beneath her eyes. It pulled at him, a tightening in his chest, and his own expression softened, though not in pity. "Perhaps we shall walk together and talk, if the fair lady doesn't mind the company of a nosy youth, of course." He gave her a small smile, a silent, invisible hand held out for her to take if she needed it. It did not matter he knew nothing about her, it was his duty to lend an ear if she so needed it, or to simply be pleasant company, just a pretty face, or even to leave her once again in solitude entirely.
 
Fate whispers to the warrior,
'You can not withstand the storm.'
The warrior whispers back,
'I am the storm.'
MUSONART


@Sikeax









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