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A little something I've been trying to put together...

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  • A little something I've been trying to put together...

    Any kind of comments,critiques,sugestions,impressions....would be most welcome.


    Chapter III.

    A lone figure stood before the stained-glass window of the highest tower of the castle which resonated with imposing silence. Yet, in spite the all-pervading tranquility, the colossal edifice was giving the impression of spellbinding strangeness. That such a gigantic structure is capable of taking place in the middle of nothingness was not easy to comprehend. Yet, it strangely seamed perfectly at place. Blending in flawlessly with the bleak surroundings, making a definite impression that it was there, at that very spot, for eons. An impressive sight to behold no matter how depressive it might seem at first, the towering structure held infallible integrity and detained an air of awe inspiring gracefulness. The figure from beyond the window appeared just as graceful and just as at place in the castle as the castle blended in with the site surrounding it. Tedious calmness transcend from outside into the room of the tower.
    A cold, gray room decorated by hardly any furnishings other than a few large paintings portraying what seemed to be a battle of epic proportions. The shape that remained calm, standing infront and looking out the rooms’ only but enormous window, clothed in a dark gray cape, had long smooth white hair flowing down its broad shoulders almost to the waist. Making no other sound other than an occasional hushed hum of breath, the imposing shape seamed to be contemplating something with great fidelity, almost in a meditative state. Suddenly, the silence was violently broken by hurried footsteps that increased in volume as the one who dared break the silence, approached. The figure at the window seamed unaffected by the incongruous sound. The sound of footsteps came to an abrupt end as it reached the other side of the room’s closed door. An uneasy muffled cough could be heard as if immediately trying to beg forgiveness for the intrusion. Then, after a few moments of silence, the voice from outside the room spoke in a weak and trembling yet young voice; “My lord…my lord, your father…he seeks your presence�. As soon as the reverberation of the words articulated died out, the immense silence instantaneously prevailed once more. No answer came from inside the tower room. Whoever was charged with the obviously uneasy task of conveying the call turned back silently and retraced his steps back the stairs but this time making little to no sound at all.
    The recipient of the message exhaled mutely and swiftly turned back from the window. His crimson eyes full of the same emptiness that he tried to contemplate just moments ago seamed motionless, not focusing on anything in particular as he made elegant steps towards the wooden door. Then, just as he was about to open it, he halted. His eyes turned to one of the chared canvases that hanged on the wall right of the door. He gazed at the image depicting a magnificent battle. The prevailing colors of the image were in tone with the rest of the surroundings. As the room was made of gray, cold stone so too was the only outstanding decoration in an equivalent shade of dreariness. Nevertheless, the scene shown was depicted with up most reverence. The central part of the work of art illustrated a gallant warrior standing in the midst of chaos, with his great blade held upwards, soaring to the sky. The expression on his face was that of triumph. The resemblance of the depicted warrior to the beholder of the picture would be clearly perceptible were it not for the dissimilarity in the facial expressions and posture of the compared two. While the one on the picture was full of vigor and teeming with pompous arrogance in his stance, the observer came across as a sapped effigy of the dauntless image, worn out and tired, but only in comparison to the intrepidness captured in the canvas representation. He still had a grand sense of gallantry about him if only somewhat minuted. It was feasible to imply that the current somewhat humbling characteristics held by the figure in comparison to its past undoubtedly fأ?ted self, were to be credited to some terrible burden laid down on its broad shoulders. Conceivably the great victory did not come to be without a proper price. Still, whatever it was, there was no evidence of lament in the gaze nor did it give a sense of sorrowfulness.Quite the opposite, the gaze was, if anything, that of slim elation.
    In another fleet and abrupt shift an unexpectedly slender, refined hand moved elegantly from underneath the cloak, freeing the hood from under the long silvery hair, while the other equally slender and gracefull hand reached for the discolored hoary door handle. Eyes, now moderately shrouded by the hood, still fixed on the exposأ© of the confrontation while, with a screech, the door opened and the body went through whereas the mind undoubtedly lingered in the past, reconstructing the times of yore.
    The meandering narrow flight of stairs that lead from and to the tower room was vaguely dim as the only trace of any source of illumination was coming from miniature gaps in the wall that let in a barely sufficient amount of light from the unchanging twilight from the outside.
    Reaching the bottom of the stairway, the cloaked figure hurriedly treaded along the extensive and ample yet eerily empty corridor. To the end of the passageway was a large, gate-like entrance from which a faint murmur could be heard.
    Again the hands reached out from beneath the cloak and pulled the handles of the great door, filling the hallway with a screeching holler as the seemingly frail hands displayed a surprising quantity of strength.
    Upon revealing a grand, luxuriant chamber that the passageway was leading to, the cloaked man found himself the center of attention as he unquestionably interrupted a discussion.The hall was the setting of a congregation of some kind. At its midpoint was a large, tetragonal table which seated five markant individuals. Further on from the bulky table lay the throne. Seated on it, an elderly figure raised eyes to fix them on the cause of the sudden stop of a prior discussion.
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