Please...Please! Have mercy...Ye God's of Old...hear this cry, and bend your ear.

Hush child - let us not speak too loudly. For the creature of our discussion has not heard the vocalization of any thoughts other than his own, for so long now.

For so long....So long has Myrddin wandered. It seemed only an instant that his eyesight was restored to him by the eternal Goddess of the Night, only to be striken away by the eternal night. All went black and all...

all left the Philosopher's soul. All sense of is and was and ought and duty. It fled like so much wick burned up in the night - used and only appreciated once it was dampened. And so, Myrddin had left with only the light to bear witness - he had left his cave, silent for so long, and ventured into the darkness. To die or to learn of his fate - either an acceptable outcome. He cared little if he lived or died - only wishing for knowledge. Only wishing for..

..for...

light.

Days and months blurred together, but the only real thing Myrddin could be sure of, was the light ahead. It blurred in a way different than those of the lamplights which burned into his mind. The trees burned with a fake sort of light. The Goddess of the Moon had given him the ability to see into the very heartstrings of that which lived, and while the tree's pulsed with light, their life force did not similarly grow. You lie.... he thought of them, as he passed. Wandering..

An invisible vagabond.

But you...you are different. You pulse with life. Like a wraith drawn to the heavenly host, Myrddin drew near. Across the distances the strange creature called - the light - the scent of blood. It might have been kilometer's or days - is there any way to measure the passing of time, in such a vast mind? There might be, but I know not of it. There are others here - equally pulled by the ebbing lifeforce of this strange creature perhaps. They are like silvery wraiths in the night, but he hears their voices clearly - the sounds crashing in his mind which has remained mute for so long.

Blind eyes, given site by divine intervention, sweep over the gathered view with objective and polite interest, before falling upon the creature.

"Hush" He orders - his voice sounding like that of a singer, who has smoked far too many cigars and grown old and complacent. "If there is one among you who is not here to help - let him speak. If not, hush. Do not make her use her dying breath to calm your voices."


[Link to his Wishlist. He had already wanted a Deer companion :3 ]