5 Saun, 716
The white expanse beneath his feet didn’t crunch like snow normally did. Lour frowned at the thought looking down. Maybe it was because it was the height of summer, but Lour didn’t think so. Kneeling down, he scooped up some of it, and it didn’t feel cold, or warm, or like anything really. Instead of staying in his hand, it flew up, more like a mist or a fog than a proper snow. Lour frowned, perplexed. He didn’t seem to be in Treidhart anymore, but there weren’t many clues to his location. It was dark, but there didn’t seem to be any stars visible, and none of the moons made an appearance. Instead, the sky was a uniform black, stretching infinitely into the distance until it met the white of the floor at the horizon. Turning back the way he came, Lour noticed that he didn’t seem to be leaving any footprints either. In fact, each direction seemed much like the last one.
There wasn’t an obvious light source, yet Lour could see, so something had to be glowing somewhere. Maybe it was the floor itself, since the white was rather unnaturally bright. It was serene, in a sterile way. While he loved a peaceful location, this place felt surprisingly empty. It was odd, since Lour realized then and there that the sort of peace he enjoyed wasn’t an empty one, but rather one that was filled with the soft sounds and sights and smells of life moving forward as smoothly as possible.
This void, in contrast, was unsettling, and goose bumps prickled up Lour’s arms. Concentrating, he pulled upon the cool reservoir of power within him to create a spear. The ice appeared as quick as thought, much quicker than Lour was accustomed to, since usually he had to think long and hard and focus in order to create anything with Nilas. He didn’t dwell on this fact too long, since he figured he might just be getting more skilled at that particular aspect of his race’s gift from Treid.
Holding a spear instantly made Lour feel more comfortable, safer in some way he couldn’t name. It was odd. He didn’t like violence and tried his best to keep it from his city. And he never initiated a fight if he could help it. But he also felt that peace wouldn’t maintain itself. Instead, he and others like him had to be constantly vigilant, always trying to keep the world stable.
Still, he wondered sometimes what Ziell would think of his chocies. The Immortal had a profound influence on Lour’s life. While the Ellune didn’t fully comprehend all the ways he’d been touched by the Immortal, he did wonder daily if he was following a path Ziell would approve of. Lour bowed his head. He didn’t often get the chance to pray out loud in Treidhart, since the worship of other Immortals was highly discouraged. Now, though there didn’t seem to be a soul in sight.
“Ziell, hear my prayer.” Lour didn’t know the proper protocol for praying for any Immortal other than Treid. The Ellune didn’t have guides for this sort of ritual. However, though he spoke hesitantly, and his voice barely rose above a whisper, Lour felt he couldn’t go wrong with that opening. “I seek the peace that you embody, for both myself and for my friends and family.” The words hung, trembling in the still air. “I wish I knew how you would want me to act.” Lour chuckled at that. “But then again, I value my freewill. I guess we all just want a little guidance now and then.”