The timing couldn't be better.
A foreboding presence, dark and menacing as a gargoyle sculptured from wicked hands, perched atop the highest point it could remember amidst the expanse of buildings and winding streets. Eyes both familiar and foreign pierced the night, coated by a shining film which collected fragments of light and reflected the fragments into the eyes tenfold. No details could conceal themselves in darkness when his glare flashed an eerie nocturnal green in their direction. Updrafts serenely swirled around the figure, closely embracing his crouching form, brushing locks of hair against a wan face. Though the moon blazed down on his form, most of his features remained in shadow.
The stranger grinned down at streets, streets which had often before been painted with blood. Uncountable lives had been devoured by discord in this bleak and guideless winter. It was a great and utter shame. That meant less prey for him to hunt, less prey for him to chase to the slaughterhouse.
But fancy that, he had arrived on the night when calendars would fold into a new cycle, when the last number on written dates were shifted up to a new number, when all the experiences of the past twelve months would transcend into memories for the new year. Indeed, his timing had been wonderful. He would witness FEF Kingdom shed its shield in a blaze of fire, and then ascend from the ashes reborn. Surely its crest was heavily scarred by the relentless and insatiable activities of Chaos. Surely they meant to cleanse their image of these scars. And there was no better way than by going up in an inferno. After all, these puppets — these fools — had gathered under the name of the Fire Emblem.
From his waist he removed a small pouch. The stranger's movements synchronized with the gentle gusts of the wind around him, his motions possessed by grace and caution so his equilibrium would not be disturbed. He tucked an incisor tooth behind the string which bound the leather pouch and he tugged it loose.
"Ashes to ashes," he whispered, dumping the contents into the wind, "dust to dust."
At his word the thirsty gale encircled him violently before scattering the ashes over the town, tainting the snow with specks of black and the scent of impurity. He waved casually to the vanishing swaths of ash as though he was waving goodbye.
"Chaos does not need a God," he sneered to the distance, "and neither does Order. Make your mark on this year, you stupid gods. All you will achieve is your own undoing."
The figure stood high and brushed a hair away from his face, away from eyes cast in shadow by the moon's convenient positioning. He had desired the sound of the bell tolling midnight, but the clock tower had been swallowed by occult designs and used as a skeleton for some ridiculous beast. So he had to settle for silence.
How boring...
He assumed that the guildmembers had seen enough strife. If he slipped into their ranks now, the results would surface as unsatisfactory and displeasing. He could wait — he knew patience. The nights were due to shorten, the days to lengthen. Involvement with the kingdom right away was not practical. It would be considerably less enjoyable, and by the time their concerns subsided, the sun's surveillance would cage him in concealment.
But it was well. Although his timing to get involved was badly executed, his timing to see FEF Kingdom traverse the New Year was impeccable. He giggled lightly at the ashes scattered across the town.
From the castle's peak point, he plummeted.
A little spin, a flap of robes and cape, and a flick of the wrist compressed his form into something diminutive and inconspicuous. He had debated on setting off a bang to alert everyone of the New Year, but that was too blatant for even him.
So the stranger merely disappeared into the shadows of FEF Castle with a flap of his tiny wings.
A foreboding presence, dark and menacing as a gargoyle sculptured from wicked hands, perched atop the highest point it could remember amidst the expanse of buildings and winding streets. Eyes both familiar and foreign pierced the night, coated by a shining film which collected fragments of light and reflected the fragments into the eyes tenfold. No details could conceal themselves in darkness when his glare flashed an eerie nocturnal green in their direction. Updrafts serenely swirled around the figure, closely embracing his crouching form, brushing locks of hair against a wan face. Though the moon blazed down on his form, most of his features remained in shadow.
The stranger grinned down at streets, streets which had often before been painted with blood. Uncountable lives had been devoured by discord in this bleak and guideless winter. It was a great and utter shame. That meant less prey for him to hunt, less prey for him to chase to the slaughterhouse.
But fancy that, he had arrived on the night when calendars would fold into a new cycle, when the last number on written dates were shifted up to a new number, when all the experiences of the past twelve months would transcend into memories for the new year. Indeed, his timing had been wonderful. He would witness FEF Kingdom shed its shield in a blaze of fire, and then ascend from the ashes reborn. Surely its crest was heavily scarred by the relentless and insatiable activities of Chaos. Surely they meant to cleanse their image of these scars. And there was no better way than by going up in an inferno. After all, these puppets — these fools — had gathered under the name of the Fire Emblem.
From his waist he removed a small pouch. The stranger's movements synchronized with the gentle gusts of the wind around him, his motions possessed by grace and caution so his equilibrium would not be disturbed. He tucked an incisor tooth behind the string which bound the leather pouch and he tugged it loose.
"Ashes to ashes," he whispered, dumping the contents into the wind, "dust to dust."
At his word the thirsty gale encircled him violently before scattering the ashes over the town, tainting the snow with specks of black and the scent of impurity. He waved casually to the vanishing swaths of ash as though he was waving goodbye.
"Chaos does not need a God," he sneered to the distance, "and neither does Order. Make your mark on this year, you stupid gods. All you will achieve is your own undoing."
The figure stood high and brushed a hair away from his face, away from eyes cast in shadow by the moon's convenient positioning. He had desired the sound of the bell tolling midnight, but the clock tower had been swallowed by occult designs and used as a skeleton for some ridiculous beast. So he had to settle for silence.
How boring...
He assumed that the guildmembers had seen enough strife. If he slipped into their ranks now, the results would surface as unsatisfactory and displeasing. He could wait — he knew patience. The nights were due to shorten, the days to lengthen. Involvement with the kingdom right away was not practical. It would be considerably less enjoyable, and by the time their concerns subsided, the sun's surveillance would cage him in concealment.
But it was well. Although his timing to get involved was badly executed, his timing to see FEF Kingdom traverse the New Year was impeccable. He giggled lightly at the ashes scattered across the town.
From the castle's peak point, he plummeted.
A little spin, a flap of robes and cape, and a flick of the wrist compressed his form into something diminutive and inconspicuous. He had debated on setting off a bang to alert everyone of the New Year, but that was too blatant for even him.
So the stranger merely disappeared into the shadows of FEF Castle with a flap of his tiny wings.
