Arc 715, Vhalar cycle, 55th Trial
The night was dark and silent. As morning drew near, silence was broken by the scraping noise of a pot lid, and darkness dissipated, as the glowing embers within the pot was revealed within. Out from the pot burst a wash of warm yellows that splashed onto the small room. It revealed a semblance of a person but with little detail than that and a sense of the cramped space that this person called home. The person, who took hold of the lantern in one hand, the door handle in the other, tugged the door open against the scraping resistance of an uneven stone floor. A layer of further light and ambient chatter from Sirothelle rising from slumber, rose in stages as the door was pulled open, breathing life into a deathly silent room. With the door finally open, the figure was met with a stone tiled patio, open to the elements on one side, enclosed and leading to the rest of the house on the other.
The sun had just started to peak over the horizon now and leaked traces of light as it slowly dissolved the darkness around. The resulting silhouette that was formed and the dark patch that hung from the figures face, was enough to conclude that this person was indeed a man. He shuffled along the patio and while holding the pot of embers with one hand, rubbed the sleep from the eyes with the other. The pot was discarded temporarily on the sill of a window while he crouched. A few ladle scoops of water were drunk and the unwelcome drips were spat out. He gritted his teeth against the cold sear of water over his Aukari lips.
Now the sky was beginning to streak with oranges and yellows, with a hue that grew in strength. It cast its colours onto the figure, mixing its orange with his red hair as if to highlight that this man was an Aukari. The figure looked up at the sky as if to answer a silent call. Light shone upon his face, shadows formed from his unruly hair, heavy brows, disjointed nose and gnarled beard. It was his brown eyes that shone, revealing his identity, in that they reflected the evolving sky and always climaxing in fire. He was Aun.
Aun thought of fire. He saw the sky as if he were physically standing within his own body. It licked and cackled menacingly, with a promise that with enough emotional fuel, he would be engulfed in it. Suddenly, the sun, as if personified by Faldrun himself, reared up from the horizon as if to look down upon Aun, like a burning eye that could pierce his very soul...
Aun recoiled, the bucket tipping. Water unfurled over the patio and drained onto the unkept garden. He hastily took the pot of coals and the now empty bucket and strode away. He promised himself not to think any further on the subject of Faldrun while he would commence his work that day. It served him only fear.
