Halagren/Tira

[Lyrima]

(from 1/14/04)

By Halagren:

Halagren. In the darkness of the void, the spirit of Halagren was forced slowly into awareness. The voice was familiar, having been heard many times. Out of stubbornness, the spirit tried to resist the calling. There was a certain peacefulness in the void.

Halagren, the voice repeated. Yes, the spirit had been called many times. The spirit grew more aware, and remembered more. Death, mostly. Death of foes, and of self. Many foes had died to the cutting bite of his sword. And the spirit had died many times, all with bloodshed. With slight unease, the spirit of Halagren relived these moments. Ogres, axes, mages, and wolves stood out the most. With annoyance, the spirit realized it had never died peacefully in its sleep.

Halagren. The spirit would not resist. Duty and honor were central to the spirit. Yet, it knew the real reason it would return was it's comrades and the one. It would fight along side them again.

The spirit of Halagren steeled itself for pain of awakening.

By Tira:

Patience Throwing herself against the void, she cannot wait to rejoin her body. The darkness suffocates her; the quiet too profound. Unaware, she is a ball of fire, a pin point of light in the void.

Patience All that she desires is in the land of the living. Desperate to get back, she strains the ties that hold her. Momories of death are shaken off. The need to fight, to pull back the arra and embed it deeply into the enemy fill her mind. Feladan..!

Patience All that she needs is on the otherside of the void. Her heart yearns to be with her friends, the one. Her soul will never rest until all that must be, can be, might be, WILL be accomplished.

The soul of Tira leaps joyously through the void, freed at last.