The transport landed, and although Ahriman and his companions were greeted by the locals, he showed little interest in them. There was the surface politeness but nothing more. He made it very obvious that he was not here for them. He got a sense of relief from the minds that he brushed against, but again that made little difference to him.
A few questions, a few scans and Ahriman knew where he had to go. For some reason, the streak of light he had seen had made its way into the mountains. He cast his thoughts out, searching and finding the right way to go. Behind him, the rubricae followed. He barely needed to focus to get them to do so now.
The weather was fair, a light wind picked through the short grass. Warm sun shone on his face and he was remind of a long dead home in a far stretch of the galaxy. He dismissed it and focused on the task ahead.
What he saw when he reached the hillside was not what he had been expecting. Surprised registered on his face, though that was hidden behind his helmet, his aura was not so hidden. Before him, sat on what he perceived as a bench, was a tall woman with a huge spear in her hand. Locks of white hair framed a fair face as pale as his was tanned. The wings were an unusual addition and he kept distance between them.
“You are the one that fell through the galaxy,” he said. He used his natural voice rather than the silent speech. It would not be wise to do so to a being he had no awareness of. His words were not a question. He bade the rubricae to step backwards with a thought. As one, they did so. A single step that thudded against the neat ground.
Ears pricked up as he let his voice finally be heard, she had however known of his approach. She had come to the end of her ground etching it seemed and stepped back ever so slightly to examine it. Armoured finger tapping against her pale chin before she turned to the new presence.
“Ah, you are the little warrior who I felt as
I entered into this world. I wondered when
you would get here.”
Avacyn nodded, obsidian hues examined the warrior from top to bottom, he was large by human standards but at her height? she dwarfed him easily. He wore rather lavish and elaborate robes, and to top it off he decorated himself with that brash golden horned helmet that made him look larger than he truly was. This was a man with much pride, when he walked into a room he expected people to know who he was and know his worth.
Avacyn had met many men of such pride. She was in fact crafted by one originally. Men who place themselves up so high, have a nasty habit of falling down. Hard. Poor thing, a tragic figure really. Beneath his layers of pride she could sense a sadness about him, something he had done and sought to undo.
She then gazed at the two Rubricae, she heard nothing from them. No thoughts, no aura, no feeling. She furrowed her brow. She would ask him about those later on.
“ So what is it that I can do for you?
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