They couldn’t afford to let the fight drag on. But if there were no wisps, how could he change its course? If Berlak evaded him at every turn, how could they turn the tide? The answer came to him as quickly as the question. There’s more you can do in the dark.Stepping forward, he moved his hand in as he spun from the cover of Cenam’s back to oppose Berlak. The god turned away from his attack easily, striking a closed fist against the flat of Cenam’s veil.

Valerik opened his eyes from his slumber, instinct propelled to reach across him to ensure he bow still lay where he’d left it last night when he’d bedded down for the night. The bow was the livelihood of his people. A man with no knowledge of where his bow lay at all times was a failure of a man. Assured it was where he’d left it, he rose from the ground to a sitting position and watched the man who sat on the log on the other side of a fire that was nothing but ash. No doubt it had fizzled out sometime during the night, considering no one had paid it any attention.

Red wine twirled within a transparent cup made of glass and fashioned for the simple and unnecessary sake of aesthetics. By Truth, Maekil never could understand the desire to be pleasing to the eye. Perhaps it was because all his life he had been nothing but pleasing to the eye, perhaps it was not. He dropped the cup without taking a sip.He would only taste of the wine when the night was over and the morning greeted him with the light of the sun. Normally this wasn’t the case: not in his manor.

Darkness has never truly been a thing of worry here. Basically, it’s most often dark here. Most of us don’t like it, but time is enough to make anyone adapt to it. Still, it’s not like we have much of an option. Wether it’s dark or bright or generally colorless, it wouldn’t matter, this is the life we live. We would claim we didn’t choose it, that it chose us. But I’ll be honest, we chose it as much as it chose us. Every action we ever took has led us here; at least all the actions I ever took led me here.