Snippet #2650407

Year 3500, Skaerra Calendar

Within grand hallowed halls, Ircys stood. He awoke from a dream that spoke and called him to stand watch. It was the same dream he had had every slumber. He strode forward to the edge with caution, his eyes firm upon the night beyond the hall. The darkness surrounded him, as it had for over millennia. He no longer missed the clouds that he once looked down upon. He felt content as he always felt, but now he felt something different.

She stepped in, unannounced, but certainly ever welcome. Tiamniel approached him, trying to see what he was seeing.

"What is it?" Her voice, though rich like a harp, trembled at the sight of him upon the edge.

"Every night, it is the same. The same voice calling for me to stand watch and wait. It tells me it is him, but I wait, and I wait. And never do I see him."

"More urgent matters have arisen," she spoke.

Ircys turned his eyes to her grim countenance.

Tiamniel's brow furrowed, "Oelne is plotting something, I sense it. The first in more than a thousand years, as if his throne has grown uncomfortable for him. That arrogant bast-"

"You have sent Jehael?"

"Jehael is investigating as we speak."

"We must remain vigilant of his moves. Though powerless as we are, what few deeds we can do, we must do. He would have wanted it."

Ircys gave one last look at the night before he would go to his rest, but before he could rest something had diverted him. He examined it further.

"Do you see...?"

"What?"

"Do you see it?"

Ircys was unsure, but suddenly a hope rose from beneath the surface. It had to be tempered, though. Oelne's servants were watching. They could not risk revealing themselves or much of what they knew.

"He is returning."

"Who?"

"Do you not remember our brother?"

Tiamniel resigned with a sigh before she started back for her chambers, disappointed that he still kept with this charade while the rest had moved on. They had waited for him for a long time. A very long time, but none for so long as Ircys. Though they had all given up, Ircys never tired in his watch.

"He is gone Ircys. Fled. He has disappeared and left us all here to rot. We have waited, for so long, he has broken his promise. Come what may to this world. We have given enough of our souls and time to it," she pleaded, "Can we not leave the rest in the hands of the Creator?"

Ircys remained poised, and unmoved. He knew what he saw, what he was seeing.

"No, the Creator chose us. The Creator chose him. I see him. I see it."

"You see nothing but Night. Night is laughing at your delusions, Ircys. Even it knows that Mo-"

"It is different now. I see it, I see the Fallen Star. He returns."

Tiamniel paused and shifted her eyes into the ever large expanse of night.

Many stars glittered like jewels among a velvet drape, like specks that remained untouched on a blackened canvas.

Then there was one, so different from the rest. It shone with muted brilliance, as though it had been waiting for too long for its time to finally come.

Ircys saw it.

Now she saw it. She took several tentative steps forward, "Is that..."

"Him," Ircys expressed, his breath almost completely escaped from him.

"Go," he bade, "Tell the others that he is returning. Inform Nylae and the others. We must-"

"Rest first. I will speak with Nylae. What more can we do now?"

Ircys breathed, "I know not."