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The winged man looked at the robed figure cowering on the cold, stone floor. For a brief moment, he thought about sparing him.
But he knew neither of them had a choice. The monks of Karthe were bound by vows as old as the King's crown, and as merciless as the eastern dogs. If the monk was left alive, we would try to stop him using any means necessary.
~
He reached the exit of the corridor, the torchlight now overpowered by the sun. He looked outside, and, in the distance, he saw it.
The Temple of Karthe was built upon air, standing still above the sea, on a platform that seemed to be crumbling from old age.
The winged man found it funny, as the priests used to say that the temple wouldn't fall before Karthe itself did. He spread his black wings, and flew above the ocean.
~
The winged man landed in front of an old stone throne, upon which the Guardian sat. The old man did nothing but look in his eyes with a sadness so deep, the winged man felt chills. He felt sorry for the oathbound mage.
He walked past the throne, and to the enormous doors of the Temple. He hesitated but only for a moment, and he swung the doors open with one powerful push.
He couldn't seen much in the darkly lit halls. Before he could take a step inside, he heard the old man screaming with an emotion he couldn't begin to understand.
By the mage's words, it seemed his god had arrived. The angel looked outside.
He saw the creature in the sky, so giant and distant it was faded, like the first glimpse of an island. Light made out of what he knew was false came to him in a speed to slow to be light and too fast to be death. He hid.
The thing then knew it had ended Karthe.
But he knew neither of them had a choice. The monks of Karthe were bound by vows as old as the King's crown, and as merciless as the eastern dogs. If the monk was left alive, we would try to stop him using any means necessary.
~
He reached the exit of the corridor, the torchlight now overpowered by the sun. He looked outside, and, in the distance, he saw it.
The Temple of Karthe was built upon air, standing still above the sea, on a platform that seemed to be crumbling from old age.
The winged man found it funny, as the priests used to say that the temple wouldn't fall before Karthe itself did. He spread his black wings, and flew above the ocean.
~
The winged man landed in front of an old stone throne, upon which the Guardian sat. The old man did nothing but look in his eyes with a sadness so deep, the winged man felt chills. He felt sorry for the oathbound mage.
He walked past the throne, and to the enormous doors of the Temple. He hesitated but only for a moment, and he swung the doors open with one powerful push.
He couldn't seen much in the darkly lit halls. Before he could take a step inside, he heard the old man screaming with an emotion he couldn't begin to understand.
By the mage's words, it seemed his god had arrived. The angel looked outside.
He saw the creature in the sky, so giant and distant it was faded, like the first glimpse of an island. Light made out of what he knew was false came to him in a speed to slow to be light and too fast to be death. He hid.
The thing then knew it had ended Karthe.
