The Awakening
Sept 16, 2006 3:53:33 GMT
Post by Yuri on Sept 16, 2006 3:53:33 GMT
It was a brisk, slightly cold evening that night in the vast plains stretching across the Northwestern Continent. Crickets sang their evening song, perched atop the various prairie thickets and needles of grass, letting their music carry across the darkened breezes, sliding across the wilderness with nothing but the wind to carry their melodies across the expanse. The moon was full in the sky, a new moon, its golden hue flooding the ground with a pale light that closely rivaled the daylight. Dew had just now began to form on the blades of grass, the partially-transparent clouds descending upon the earth in a gray fog to drown the world in droplets of newly-forming water, giving the moonlight the chance to let its light glimmer in a silver-white sheen across the vast fields of endless green.
It was the perfect night to sit, and relax.
Yuri took in a deep breath, sighing softly with content, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, standing in the middle of a patch of long green grass. He'd given far too much time for serious actions, lately. Sometimes, it did good to sit back, enjoy life for what it was, and live the moment.
He let his mind wander to various memories of the past few days - the battles he'd gone through; the people he'd met; the dangers he'd faced. Looking back on them, he knew he could make no other course of action, but still...it bothered him, slightly, to have to fight to protect what was morally right, when everything else just seemed so utterly wrong.
He'd changed, to fit the new era; he didn't even wear the clothes he'd gotten so accustomed to, the clothes of his old bounty hunter days; he'd donned the armor of the Guardian of the Cross, now. He was the hand of justice, and had to play the part both God and Fate had dealt him.
His appearance was most definitely different, now. His lowest layer of clothing was simple enough; a white tunic and matching breeches, made of the softest silk, that caressed his skin as he moved. On top of that, he wore his armor - the Armor of the Cross, given to him after many hardships and battles, both internally and physically. The armor shone a dull silver that night, quiet, peaceful; in times of battle, it was known to glow a bright white, to show the world that he was the hellbringer of law, and would take down all evil that threatened to overtake the realm of Eden. Made of the smallest of chain links, it was woven together in such a way that with every movement, the links rang with the lightest of sounds, the voices of angels, giving further emphasis to the duty that he was bound to adhere to.
On top of his chain armor, which extended all the way down his arms, rested the sleeveless cloak he had grown the most accustomed to, and black fighting pants, a common necessity for his travels nowadays. The cloak extended from shoulders to knees, a midnight blue in color, that buttoned up down the entire front, although Yuri kept it open more often than not, letting the cloak open to reveal the large emblazoned design on the front of his armor - a cross, outlined in black, surrounded by tribal designs that closely resembled angel wings off the sides, and devilish flames that stretched horizontally across the bottom of the cross.
He was the image of justice, of righteousness. Some people, recognizing him for who he was, instinctively bowed their heads to him as he walked through cities; others cringed away at the sight of his eyes peering into their very souls. Still others paid him no heed, either good or bad, instead just going through their daily duties as if they had seen nothing important.
In the here and now, though, in the wilderness, there was no one but him, and the fragments of his memories.
He took another deep breath, taking in the fragrances of the wild open plains, admiring the blooms that were slowly peeking their way through the endless sea of grass. It was a beautiful night, that night. Peaceful; serene; he almost wished moments like these would never end.
He slipped his hands into his cloak pockets, at waist level, and began to slowly trot through the long blades of grass, following the winds to their eternal destinations.
Little did he know that his destination would be far, far closer.
It was the perfect night to sit, and relax.
Yuri took in a deep breath, sighing softly with content, closing his eyes and leaning his head back, standing in the middle of a patch of long green grass. He'd given far too much time for serious actions, lately. Sometimes, it did good to sit back, enjoy life for what it was, and live the moment.
He let his mind wander to various memories of the past few days - the battles he'd gone through; the people he'd met; the dangers he'd faced. Looking back on them, he knew he could make no other course of action, but still...it bothered him, slightly, to have to fight to protect what was morally right, when everything else just seemed so utterly wrong.
He'd changed, to fit the new era; he didn't even wear the clothes he'd gotten so accustomed to, the clothes of his old bounty hunter days; he'd donned the armor of the Guardian of the Cross, now. He was the hand of justice, and had to play the part both God and Fate had dealt him.
His appearance was most definitely different, now. His lowest layer of clothing was simple enough; a white tunic and matching breeches, made of the softest silk, that caressed his skin as he moved. On top of that, he wore his armor - the Armor of the Cross, given to him after many hardships and battles, both internally and physically. The armor shone a dull silver that night, quiet, peaceful; in times of battle, it was known to glow a bright white, to show the world that he was the hellbringer of law, and would take down all evil that threatened to overtake the realm of Eden. Made of the smallest of chain links, it was woven together in such a way that with every movement, the links rang with the lightest of sounds, the voices of angels, giving further emphasis to the duty that he was bound to adhere to.
On top of his chain armor, which extended all the way down his arms, rested the sleeveless cloak he had grown the most accustomed to, and black fighting pants, a common necessity for his travels nowadays. The cloak extended from shoulders to knees, a midnight blue in color, that buttoned up down the entire front, although Yuri kept it open more often than not, letting the cloak open to reveal the large emblazoned design on the front of his armor - a cross, outlined in black, surrounded by tribal designs that closely resembled angel wings off the sides, and devilish flames that stretched horizontally across the bottom of the cross.
He was the image of justice, of righteousness. Some people, recognizing him for who he was, instinctively bowed their heads to him as he walked through cities; others cringed away at the sight of his eyes peering into their very souls. Still others paid him no heed, either good or bad, instead just going through their daily duties as if they had seen nothing important.
In the here and now, though, in the wilderness, there was no one but him, and the fragments of his memories.
He took another deep breath, taking in the fragrances of the wild open plains, admiring the blooms that were slowly peeking their way through the endless sea of grass. It was a beautiful night, that night. Peaceful; serene; he almost wished moments like these would never end.
He slipped his hands into his cloak pockets, at waist level, and began to slowly trot through the long blades of grass, following the winds to their eternal destinations.
Little did he know that his destination would be far, far closer.