06-09-2007, 05:15 AM
1. Introduction
Why, it was such a marvelous fall. First, Ne’ar descended, his hair billowing upwards in their lost fight against the winds passing him. Through one cloud, through another, and yet another ten! His incandescent wings slowly dissolved in this steep drop, and his clothes started to become tattered in their rough treatment. For a few minutes, he enjoyed his ride to this earthly, gaudy land of the groundlings that excited him so. Then…it started to lose excitement. He closed his eyes for a brief moment of pensiveness. What, exactly, would he do? How would he present himself?
He had no time to think. As he opened his eyes, he saw the temple a few hundred feet below him, as well as the steeple aimed dangerously close to his head. “Ne’ar,” he told himself, “you…are one grand idiot.”
He neared, and threw his arms up to protect his head. The curved dome shape of the temple’s roof seemed like a bit of a softer landing. At least…He would hit, slide off, and then fall, hopefully gracefully, to the ground. And that was if the steeple didn’t decide to coincidentally be just in place to strike him through the middle, but by now, that was simply a near possibility that could only be carried out by the wind. However, the Lady Esen would never do such a horrible thing to him. At least, he hoped so.
Ne’ar felt his body grow closer to its destination. Time seemed to slow, to start tormenting him the suspense of his fall. 100 feet…50 now…25…The distance seemed to close, and-
A priest was speaking to the followers. His name was Aaron the Forgiver, and he was a proud, boastful, devout man of the highest types. He wore his robes as carefully as he would handle the Mother, if she would ever visit, and he held the holy items of this land. The items on the graced table were carefully entrusted to Aaron, as he was a member of the Edmundian Order that was currently strongest in this region. All regions believed in the Mother, however. She came to visit every year, during the Feast of Kilna, and that was nearing ever so soon.
Aaron the Forgiver spoke with such a passionate fury, such a great piousness, that the members in pews took a breath as the exalted man turned and let his robes whip around his elder body. “We must keep our faith growing ever stronger, and we must make amends for our dastardly actions! The Mother will come down to us, and we must make sure we are clean enough to be around the holy mistress, and for her to bless us for yet another bountiful year!” His arms went straight up, rising to the firmament, pointing to the lair of the great one.
Ne’ar’s body was flung with more force than he thought it would. The roof, as well, had not held up as in his expectations. For all, it was truly grand, but it was certainly not thick enough to hold out under his impact. The dome splintered beneath him, and the poor boy continued his fall. He landed on an empty spot near a man who looked over in wonder and quickly started to brush him off. Aaron the Forgiver, with his hands still in the air, paused to have a look and brought his arms down. Ne’ar miraculously began to awake as Aaron hurriedly paced over to the boy, and moved aside the man who was tending him, while making a holy sign on the boy’s torso.
“It seems that we have an unexpected visitor today. You are welcome, boy, to rest here for awhile,” he told the youth. “Do not worry about the roof, either. It will be no problem to fix. May I, however, know your name?” Aaron kept his hand firm on Ne’ar’s shoulder, in a mixed sort of paternal kindness or indicting to keep the boy still.
There was no question then as to how he would introduce himself, now. “I am Ne’ar, sir.”
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