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[Rufus Oryan]

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The Large Dragon boat floated about the seas...

Rufus’s journey had been started roughly a week before this day. A small tent-like quarter had been set at the back of the boat. Inside, Rufus slept, having dreams of a long walk holding Sarah’s hand in fields of lavender colors. A smile crossed his sleeping lips. Brief images of happenings filled his head, illustrious colors flickered momentarily; hues of white surrounded his images of Labelle and Legerion. Royal blue’s flashed as he recalled Regency moments. The deepest, most beautiful purple associated with his beloved Sarah. In such short time, Rufus missed it all so much. In re-experiencing what he considered failure within his dreams…or reminiscing on situations he wish he could change, he awakened to a circular outline of the sun through his tents roof. Rufus removed brushed away the book laying on his chest, and slowly made his way outside.

As Rufus stood at the boats rear, he looked to what little bit of the landmass he could see upon the horizon and let out a loud sigh. The warm sun caressed his face, ranger-like enchantments filled his head, visions of the forest beneath his feet, the comfort of nature. In other instances, there was the vision of the conversations and his classes in Nujel’m; His religious belief, and if anyone actually considered his religion at all…Much wandered through the Warlock’s head. Even visions of the Regency…its growth…its downfalls; its trials; and its conquests… and in an instant, Rufus turns to the tiller man, “What would it take for you to take me back to the main land?” The tiller man looked to Rufus with a raised brow, “Twould nay take much sir…just yer command.” The Swarthy Nujel’m native, clenched his fist, and shook his head a bit, continuing his gaze into the tiller man’s eyes, “No no…not just yet, I think I must fight those urges. Well then, do ye think it wrong to send missives there if I stop myself from visiting?” The tiller man looked to Rufus and smiled with his gold teeth and permanently cocked brow, “Of course, I cannot see tha harm in that, lad. If I am rememberin’ correctly, yer tha one that was running the Regency over thar, not to mention that fine lady you had…har…” Rufus simply smiled and nodded to the man. As he passed the tent that housed many of his parchments and quills, Rufus quickly gathered a few things and made his way to the head of the ship.

The sun that once burned high overhead began to slowly make its way into some far off mountains, and the scholar began to tend to his parchments. How simple it would be to turn that ship about, and deny himself the time he promised his soul...How it ate at him knowing Sarah was about somewhere far from him; or the Regency was without him; or would his missives even still mean the same…

Rufus kept the Book of Balance near his side as he scribbled upon the various parchments. He hoped their wordings still held power...
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"Balance - the harmony between the Principles of Order and Chaos...Harmony, Dedication and Rationality, the three Principles of Balance, are our highest ideals."