"To be old... old school, old times, old as old can be. Tide in tide out. The waxing and waning of the moon. The sandbars of experience. Were you there when the sun was created? Were you there when gods walked upon the earth? Do the trees speak your name when you pass? Children all. Memory. Everlasting. As monuments crumble to sand to be forgotten. To carry on in the blood of the old ones yet still living."
The scribbles trail off on the parchment. Falling to the ground, the paper drifts off into the wind.
The fire slowly smoulders into ashes.
And the sun rises once more.
Donal Mor
Ard Draoi
House Lynn'Dannae
The scribbles trail off on the parchment. Falling to the ground, the paper drifts off into the wind.
The fire slowly smoulders into ashes.
And the sun rises once more.
Donal Mor
Ard Draoi
House Lynn'Dannae