No Time for Lies and Empty Fights
A moments respite had been ordered; the soldier forced from his post by the instruction of those higher ranked than he, and Hector had submitted although still his body ached for battle, and his mind for trial.
The tawny beast descended into the throws of darkness, of stale muggy air and resonating hoof beats, reluctantly, but obediently. His fiery gaze was thrust between those milling and musing by the wayside; filling their time with whatever thought tainted their mind, and he couldn’t help but wonder why many chose not to commit their service to the resistance- to W.A.R. He was a valiant heart, intrepid by nature, though his ability to sympathise, to relate and compromise had been drastically reduced during his service alongside the greatest; in the army of Dragon’s Throat. He had never the want to wallow in sallow thought, and rarely did he find the time to sway with pity, and pander to those frailer than he- Hector had sworn to uphold the name of his home, and that was what he had set to achieve.
The entrance to the Wall of History opened to the left as he passed quickly though The Sanctuary. Fleetingly, eyes shifted through to view those hunkered within; the cleansing fountain, the shimmering pictures wrought into sheer, cold rock face. Without reason to pause, he continued downwards through the corridor which curled into the Glowing Room, the faint phosphorous glow seeping up the passage even before the doorway came into view. Not even had Hector the chance to slip into that misty room though, for a summoning bellow fell urgently from above, and instantly his hulking frame had swivelled to launch in the direction he had come.
It was Midas’s voice which called- together they had brought one to be healed, and the orange beast himself had sipped the God of the Earth’s gift also should his own health have been compromised. Many other wraiths had also been pulled to task; hope, achievement and the whisper of both flourished, many in the army felt that the light of victory was just barely beyond their reach now. Hooves thundered heavily as they gathered momentum, and he thrust himself into the open hall where the gilt stallion stood poised and wrapped tightly in steel; a figure of magnificence, determination and power.
Veci slithered down at the silent will of his partner, passing as only the invisible breath of wind from his patrol outside and found quickly the wraith which had trespassed. Although he moved to curl and waft harmlessly around the rotting monster, readying himself should the direction to act be dealt, the Boggart remained hidden; his abilities mute for the moment. "Sir…" The stallion’s deep voice resonated from his position to the rear of the painted- even before Midas had called for the attention of the ghoul. Enormous wings ajar and tail flicking vehemently behind, Hector bristled willingly and awaited any direction thrown for him. Always his tangerine gaze watched the wraith.
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