Awoken
Eyes like orange flames opened in the pitch blackness.
The Chariot had awoken.
And as soon as the eyelids of the champion lifted, the realm came to life. Light from an eternal full moon filled the area and stars twinkled to life in the night sky, causing waves of shimmers in the forever shifting sands of the desert. Pillars of hardened sand began to rise from the golden sea, names and feats inscribed in a language known only to the Arcane, and those they deemed worthy to teach it to. A small red flame lit up on a candle safely tucked away in a small black lantern, the metal casing being intricate floral patterns swirling around the candle holder in a circular pattern and allowing a dim amount of light to slip through.
The light seemed to dance off the fur of the Chariot, who had been been slumbering inside the canoe on their side. The light then cascaded down over their shoulders and back in a stream-like manner, and when it had reached their tail it leaped off their body to dance over the waters of the pitch black ocean, leaving behind a cloak to nestle over the Arcana’s soft fur.
“Oh my, I seem to have nodded off again.” They mused to themselves as they sat up on the wooden seat, flicking the soft fabric out from under them to prevent wrinkles as they looked around, watching their realm awaken alongside them. “I wonder how long it’s been, I wonder how everyone has been doing?” They looked down at the water over the edge of the canoe. The canoe sat at the edge of the desert and the water, and yet to the Arcana it looked as though the water had no bottom in sight, no glistening sand calling to them underneath. It probably was actually like that too.
“Well well it seems I have a lot of catching up to do.” The Chariot hopped up and stepped onto the sand, impulsively letting out a sigh at how soft the sand felt beneath his feet. “Everyone must surely have felt I have awoken, so I guess I’ll need to prepare a feast for the oncoming visitors, no wait...a party.” Their eyes darkly as they walked up to the pillar closest to them, A name freshly inscribed into it. ‘Lucio Morgasson.’








