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[Arakad]

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It was a long trek from Umbra to Yew, avoiding the citizens as he rode quickly through the forest, the ghostly unicorn kicking dust up in his wake, running as though hell itself were on his heels. Or perhaps his own thoughts and nightmares. Could one out run their worries if they went fast enough? He sprinted Around the court of Truth, until he came to the one building he sought. The entrance into the Lost Lands. Making his way quickly through the caverns, those cat-like eyes adjusting easily to cavern darkness. Until he came out of the short cave into the one spot he has always come to in order to clear his mind.

The Dark Warrior stood staring into the depths of the J`Fer sea, from the top of the Lighthouse. Those star sapphire glowing eyes reflecting the bright icy blue of the ocean that stared back at him.

~We tried to warn you; Tried to tell you - but you never listen ..~

"Oh Hello Mister Positive; how I missed you! ... Not now."

Turning on the heels of the snake skin boots, the snow white mane flowing over his face; the cat like whiskers twitch in the sea-breeze. ~She betrayed you; they all betrayed you. You weren't worthy, return to the ways of the Order and we can make you feel whole again~

"Silence damnit I said not now" But he knew the truth of the matter, black taloned nails flex over the hilt of the curved runeblade at his waist. It was the Order that filled the gap; that made him whole, Though it was the order that stole his soul and corrupted his magic. "It's not going to happen is it" he whispered to the breeze as it blue by.

~Why should it? You turned us down, we showed you the possible futures, what would happen - we showed you how it would turn out. You KNEW before hand.~

"All you've told me are lies, Why should I believe you now...." Cursing to the north winds he came down the ladder to step upon the roof of the living quarters, leaning against the weather beaten desk. "She is the best part of me, what is left of my soul. ~Bullocks old man - senile in your age? They told you this would happen. You fought them off; but they told you. Why deny yourself, return to us; return to me - and the Chaos of Oblivion shall reign across this land again.~

Those glowing blue eyes seeming to pulse in their sockets as he strained to focus, he knew the demon spoke the truth, he knew that his betrothed betrayed him... but to return to the Order ... without a Lord to follow ... "We were but a protector of the skull, a guardian of Charnel Hill and that time will never return." Stopping in his tracks the man turned to face the tower of the lighthouse, the bright lamp light waving across his pale cat-like features. He withdrew the blade, looking over the curvature and the edge ... the point. Trailing a finger along the thin line that marked it as he remembered his Matriarch spilling her own blood in discourse, as justice for what she had done. Was she truly sorry? Could she be ...

~No she isn't~ "I didn't ask you?" ~didn't you?~

He brought the obsidian hilt of the blade to his temple tapping the blunt of the blade there several times "Damnit you're clouding my judgement ... I came here to clear my thoughts not be judged"

~who am I to judge? I'm just your conscience~

"Bull..."

Turning he gave a quick downward thrust of the blade into the heart of the wooden table, stabbing a clean crevice through the center with the tip sticking through.

"Damnit ... I do love her why am I even here?" ~because she doesn't love you~

"You don't know that ... because I don't know that ... When the time comes; and she has thought things through We both shall know the truth."

Turning quickly the mans boots stepped quietly down the stairs into the sleeping quarters of the tower, a quiet mutter to himself. "Tomorrow we take the cave back to yew ... "

~Sweet dreams oh dark and shiny one .... chaotic nightmares soon await.~

Nightmares they were; but not as he had hoped. Many nights he sought sleep to find himself tormented with the faces of those he'd killed ... the souls he had claimed with no care but the cause that sanctioned their deaths. But now he saw only her face, smiling at him from behind her cowl, crying out as she impaled herself ... those violet eyes misting at the argument they held earlier that eve. The blood upon the mark of Justice upon his altar staining within his mind, turning the cold stone maroon red.

It would indeed be a long restless sleep.