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[Rufus Oryan]

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A grand golden sun, rested steadily within the clouds above the Island of Nujel’m. Quiet, sea-scented winds blew about the Outskirts, rolling bits of sand through the crevices and spaces between the small homes that lay adjacent to the road. Twas often that Rufus walked through these forgotten pathways, hoping the people would toss to him a word or two of their troubles or experiences. Rufus prayed that he should never forget where he had originated. In the bosom and cradle of a peoples whom only drive was the unity of their community. This, as well as the various reminders scattered across his dark skin, were what bound him to the peoples of the realm…

His sandals made close to no sounds as they crushed the bits of sand beneath his feet. Children lined up along the walls of their homes, staring to Rufus with large brown eyes. They peered at the large figure, taking in the essence of true emotion as he passed by. Positivity emitted from this place as their Sultan, and a son of their region passed through their midst as if a part of them. Rufus paused a moment, standing completely, still, and a smile crossed his face. The children erupted in laughter and rushed to him, pulling on his clothes and welcoming him to their homes. Oh the joy in the purity of love from ones people. Rufus’s dark red cloak fluttered about as he lowered to his knees to greet the children, for the wonder that existed in their eyes was most comforting and reminded him of that same sea-scented air that blew about. Woman stood, carrying baskets of fruit and holding pieces of cloth, looking on to the display smiling…”He’s loved….He’s so good with the Children…We are not forgotten…” These lands were nay impoverished; they were the richest lands in the realm. Nujel’ms sultan stood, and peered about the area closest to him, along the wall stood a lonely child, unaffected by his presence. He brushed his cloak behind him, asking the children to hold a moment. Rufus approached the small boy, and extended his hand, “Whatever Is the matter child?” The small boy lowered his head as tears began to run down his cheeks. He pointed to the doorway near him, instructing Rufus to look inside. Rufus leaned a bit, checking inside the small home, only to see an old woman, lying under thick blankets…

Rufus’s eyes narrowed and he entered the small home. The woman coughed lightly as her head turned to Rufus’s face. “Erm…Wel-Welcome to my home, Sultan…I-I wish that I was in better condit…” Rufus placed his hand upon her forehead, “Shhh, worry not, things are quite well in here…though I ask, what ails you?” The woman looked to Rufus and smiled lightly, “For some time, sharp pains in my stomach have plagued me. I knew that through blessings, in time, they would wither away…and I could care for my grandson completely. I’ve been offered potions and remedies of all sorts…but none could settle it…” Rufus nodded slowly as he eyes welled a bit. He reached into his small pack and pulled a vial. He placed it to the woman’s lips and asked her to drink a bit. As the woman sipped the potion a bit, Rufus whispered, “I shall attempt my best to aid ye…” She smiled as her hand pressed against Rufus’s face lightly. He extended his hands, just above her stomach, muttering incantations. His hands gathered a golden glow about them, his eyes closed, flashes of his spiritmancy lessons tossed about in his head, visions of all happenings he’d encountered; The Battle for Serpents Hold; The Britain Wars, his small wedding with Sarah…thousands of instances, condensed into a moment. His hands illuminated the room, the woman smiled to Rufus, reaching her hand to him, while his face became strained, and tears ran down his eyes. As the moment calmed, the small boy who stood outside, ran to Rufus side, and held tightly to him…

The old woman’s face turn away from the two, still holding the smile etched in her cheeks. Rufus brushed her face, and then his as a stream of tears flowed down his face. He held the boy closely, wrapping him in his cloak…soaking in only the comforting sounds of each others pain.

Moments passed, and the boy had left the room. Rufus pulled the blankets over the woman’s face, as the sun shined brightly in the room. He brushed the marking under his eye a bit, and bit his lip as a single tear ran to his chin, disappearing in his beard. He muttered a short prayer, and exited the home slowly.

A grand golden sun, rested steadily within the clouds above the Island of Nujel’m. Quiet, sea-scented winds blew about the Outskirts, rolling bits of sand through the crevices and spaces between the small homes that lay adjacent to the road…Rufus muttered, “Mayhaps even life escapes me now, loveless, empty, Am I truely loved by the divine....what am I doing wrong....Mayhaps...I am in the wrong place..."
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