Balance.
I can't remember a time I felt joy. Real, undiluted joy.
Even now, staring at the gaping maw of the ice hills, a tomb waiting to be opened and the completion of my task at the very tips of my fingers, I feel no influx of this so-called happiness. Not even relief.
I have been gone for far too long. I have witnessed kindness and goodness, decimation and evil. Seeing the world's attempt at keeping it's precious balance is almost laughable. Almost. But that balance that they tried so desperately to hold onto became destroyed in the matter of moments. Moments that may have passed others by in a single blink of an eye, perhaps even unnoticed.
Now I am here on this frozen cliff, my raven locks of hair whipping in their unruly way in a stinging fashion along my pallid cheeks, though I can't feel it. I remain crouched low along the precipice and peering down toward my Elite as we begin readying ourselves to open the cavern's doors. A shout from across the narrow bridge makes my lich-fire hues snap upward, hyperaware of Madroc trying his damndest to catch my attention. His tree-trunk like arm is waving me over like some forgotten puppy being left behind. How dare he. Yet he's always pushing my patience and testing boundaries, though he's never ignored a command. He's one of my best, now.
A twitch moves along my lips as I stifle a snort at that thought and instead, eyeroll toward the broken sky. Pushing myself up, I roll my shoulders in an attempt to free the rigidity of the position I had been in, the Saronite armor groaning and shifting beneath my well-built form.
Dead or not, I was still strong; stronger, even, than I was during my breathing life.
For the first time in many months, I reached out to my twin in our mental link, a gentle brush along his mind, a singular image and three words.
"I found them."
@the-house-of-the-nine