JERICHO

SOME TURN TO DUST OR TO GOLD

Hadn't this been what he had striven for? Fought for? Had fled the dark city of the old to come to the new, wrapped in nothing but a cloak that had torn away?

This place was large... peaceful. Better yet, no one knew who he was as he walked the streets calmly, pink eyes drifting from left to right slowly, to and fro, back and forth. He admired those that walked without a care in the world to their step, to the smiles that tugged on lips as they greeted one another. Their lives were likely something boring, but something he envied so. Lives that had not experienced tragedy or a fate that had twisted them inside out.

Jericho heaved out a soft sigh, and his crowned head seemed to finally relax, the horns glimmering at the tips whenever he stepped out of the shadow of a building and in to the light that spilled over the lands. This day was warm, humid. Summer time, and here he was, outside and enjoying freedom for it. Enjoying a life that could now be his.

Though he wasn't sure if he actually wanted that.

Without his former life, he felt bereft, lost. He felt as if he were aimlessly wandering with no purpose to send him forward. When he had lost his purpose -- his enslavement -- he had gained... nothing, it felt, save for freedom. What was freedom if there was nothing to have? If there was no purpose?

Those were the thoughts that plagued him as he walked among the people, earning stares that he winked at out of habit, his very step something that seemed seductive.