Unstitching Time and Space
When human children grow up, they learn a few basic truths from their loved ones. Don't talk to strangers - a notion they seem to harbor deep in their darkest recesses even as very small children. Don't go out after dark. Always be good, or your bad deeds will come back to haunt you.
When Lord Vayan was a very young cub, he learned another set of basic truths. Praise Ahm. Family and home before yourself. Trust in the Will and the Word.
On this night of nights, almost exactly when the clock strikes twelve, all the lights go out in Central Park. The air grows heavy over the turtle pond, and within seconds it is covered in a thick layer of mist. Layer upon layer, the wisps of gray dance in the air as if to an otherworldly tune, and through it comes a small procession. At the very front, two flag bearers lead the way, their yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. They need no light to guide them on this night, their master has laid out their path in plain speech on many nights prior. He moves in their midst, tallest of them all, his eyes burning brightest, for he sees all things that they cannot. He knows the Word, and his Will is theirs to honor.
They move from pond to earth, the mist lingering, clinging to their bare feet and paws as they move through the park - beyond the castle - to their intended destination.
With poise and determination, they move as one to the statue of the King known as Jagiello.
"A King's honor, for the path set in motion," they murmur as one; their Master says nothing. Their chant is his boon. "For the door to open. For the Reunion.
"Ahm willing!" The flag bearers exclaim into the darkness, and their equals respond.
"Ahm's will be done!"
When Lord Vayan was a very young cub, he learned another set of basic truths. Praise Ahm. Family and home before yourself. Trust in the Will and the Word.
On this night of nights, almost exactly when the clock strikes twelve, all the lights go out in Central Park. The air grows heavy over the turtle pond, and within seconds it is covered in a thick layer of mist. Layer upon layer, the wisps of gray dance in the air as if to an otherworldly tune, and through it comes a small procession. At the very front, two flag bearers lead the way, their yellow eyes gleaming in the dark. They need no light to guide them on this night, their master has laid out their path in plain speech on many nights prior. He moves in their midst, tallest of them all, his eyes burning brightest, for he sees all things that they cannot. He knows the Word, and his Will is theirs to honor.
They move from pond to earth, the mist lingering, clinging to their bare feet and paws as they move through the park - beyond the castle - to their intended destination.
With poise and determination, they move as one to the statue of the King known as Jagiello.
"A King's honor, for the path set in motion," they murmur as one; their Master says nothing. Their chant is his boon. "For the door to open. For the Reunion.
"Ahm willing!" The flag bearers exclaim into the darkness, and their equals respond.
"Ahm's will be done!"