User blog:NeilRook/A Light for Sub-Humanity

Author's Note:'' Last week was action, action, action! Which is my main strength in writing, so I thought maybe I should flex a creative muscle before it atrophied. I know you get a lot of this in fanfiction's already, but I promise things will heat up again soon.''

'Twas barely dawn when the Arisen reached the Abbey; he smeared dirt on his face when he swiped at the sweat on his brow, not caring in the least. The Arisen prodded open one of the large oaken doors to the chapel with his daggers in hand, the soft glow of several white candles radiated beyond; sheathing his dirks he then crossed the threshold with his pawns at his heels. First in was his mirror-self, one conjured by the rift by his foolish declaration of being the Arisen; similar in all regard but for a lack of scars and personality. This pawn stepped in and then stopped in place with his slender neck craned toward the high ceiling, mouth agape.

"It's merely a shelter, Ruari; no need to catch flies." The Arisen snapped when he looked o'er his shoulder. Ruari listened and closed his mouth, an ember in his eye when he glared at the Arisen, then he stepped aside towards the pews and gazed back at the architecture; letting the other associates in. A hulking barbarian stepped in next riddled with scar tissue, wearing upon him countless bones and furs and a massive slab of metal across his back he called a sword. Behind the behemoth slinked a wild but beautiful woman with shocking white hair and an equally white mantle of feathers. Each had seated themselves with the exception of Ruari, going about from candleglow to altar and back; always in the pursuit of learning. The Arisen had found himself a pew and had lain down to catch some sleep before going off again on his adventure.

It was commonplace for men to believe in their creation as divine, be it from a God or by some a Dragon, or both. But Ruari was born of the Rift, cast and molded by the Arisen's own image then awoke surrounded by swirling grey mists, falling through it until he came out into Gransys in front of his progenitor. The will of the Arisen flooded in and around him, giving him mind and purpose; it flowed as such through the other pawns as well. Walking among these pews with his Maker so close, Ruari could understand the need to believe in the divine. Staring into the glow of one particular white candle, melted almost to it's butt with grooves of rehardened wax along it's edge reminding him faintly of a tree's stump; he was startled when a small hand placed itself lightly on his shoulder.

"Coz, is that you?" said a gentle voice, he turned under the hand and looked down into the face of a young, blue-eyed nun, she continued looking at his face as if in query "The scar on your nose, is gone. Have you found a powerful healer in- Oh, I see it now in your face, you are not the one I knew from Cassardis." He stared at her in confusion for a while, then as comprehension dawned on him he pointed towards his master sleeping on the pew; her eyes followed and she looked at the sleeping Arisen steadily.

"I am Ruari, merely a servant of the Arisen" He dropped his hand to his side, and as she turned back to look at him he lowered his head as well. "I wouldn't want to bother you, but can you tell me about the Maker and your creation? I'd be very glad to learn of it. With a sad smile she said, "Of course, here let us sit down."