Have you heard of Idrila? I am one who follows them ardently, as a Knight of Beauty. If you ever wish to ask anything of me, I will gladly answer, and do my best to assist.
NOTE
The universe is filled with beauty. No matter where one is in the cosmos, this is a truth ingrained in existence itself. Therefore, I shall treasure every meeting between each and every beautiful soul I cross paths with.
Suddenly, the words he's been angling to say — whatever they are — to profess his belief in such things, or perhaps to warn (Fray) them away, he does not know, feel like they slip away. It feels like they all shatter not unlike a mirror that's been tossed aside to the ground.
...Indeed. If things were that simple, if such sentiment could drag the Knight of Beauty back from that dark influence that has sunk its claws deeper into his still-beating heart, that kind of world would be naught but a fantasy, would it not?
One in which can only be witnessed in dreams. In a fairytale.
Just like that, all traces of that warmth, the particular spark he recalls, that he has still desperately reached for inside his own heart...
...ends up mercilessly smothered in an instant, right as that familiar light that Fray has seen burning brightly — finally truly dies out in his eyes. They seem to glow differently now, and...he releases his hand from Fray's, without a further single word. Instead, his armored hand unclasps his singular earring — a symbol of his enduring state as the person he presented to those he cared about. Perhaps one of the few trinkets that resemble his adherence to his duty.
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linknet2024-07-25 09:10 pm
2/3
Suddenly, the words he's been angling to say — whatever they are — to profess his belief in such things, or perhaps to warn (Fray) them away, he does not know, feel like they slip away. It feels like they all shatter not unlike a mirror that's been tossed aside to the ground.
...Indeed. If things were that simple, if such sentiment could drag the Knight of Beauty back from that dark influence that has sunk its claws deeper into his still-beating heart, that kind of world would be naught but a fantasy, would it not?
One in which can only be witnessed in dreams. In a fairytale.
Just like that, all traces of that warmth, the particular spark he recalls, that he has still desperately reached for inside his own heart...
...ends up mercilessly smothered in an instant, right as that familiar light that Fray has seen burning brightly — finally truly dies out in his eyes. They seem to glow differently now, and...he releases his hand from Fray's, without a further single word. Instead, his armored hand unclasps his singular earring — a symbol of his enduring state as the person he presented to those he cared about. Perhaps one of the few trinkets that resemble his adherence to his duty.
Then, he will push it gently, into Fray's hand. ]