Echoes of the Past: Sorahn vs. Koran

[Sorahn]

Sorahn stood silently, listening to the torch flames hiss and crackle as they lit the room. He stared at the face of the statue which reflected the flames' yellow glow, yet he no longer saw it. His eyes looked through it, staring off into space as a flood of memories washed over him. There were only a handful of events in his life on Althanas that had really affected him; those that really mattered. It was those moments that stood out in his mind the most. His relationship with his mate, Rehnahlia, his time with his greatest mentor, Ithermoss, and the glorious battles with his best friend, a cyborg named Koran Vincent Seether.

The two had fought in the great Citadel no less than four times. When Sorahn was brought to Althanas as a slave, it was Koran who killed his master, setting him free. It was a strange friendship they shared, considering they had each killed the other at least once. Still, the shapeshifting cyborg was probably his closest friend.

Sorahn's gaze dropped as the truth rushed back to his mind. He hadn't seen the man for years. He had disappeared like a ghost, leaving no trace. Still, he held on to the slightest hope that this “shapeshifting” man might somehow be related to him. Maybe, there was a chance he would know where to find him.

His ears perked up slightly as he heard the footsteps entering the great hall through the door behind him. “Sorahn un' Rohnahmeh” The voice reverberated in the hall and caused him to raise an eyebrow. It was not the voice of Koran, but something lay beneath it. Something quite familiar.

Echoes of our illustrious past... what past? Sorahn thought as he finally turned toward this challenger. His eyes met a being that was extremely tall and very white. Nothing like his cyborg friend of old. Yet still, there was something about him. Sorahn's eyes narrowed as he simply looked the man over, unable to dissuade himself of a fact that he knew to be false.

“Koran...?” He said simply, still trying to see beneath the flesh exterior and into the true face of this man. “Are you Koran Vincent Seether?”

The puzzled frown on his face broke into a wide, understanding grin. “How fitting indeed, that you would seek me out in an arena. This makes... what... round five?” The thought amazed even the Ranoan, but their battles had seemed to become something of a tradition.

“You've changed quite a bit.” He said simply, looking over the man's appearance again. Somehow instinctively his hand reached up and touched the black horns on his head, feeling hard and rough as he ran his fingers along them. “I guess I have, too.” He said as he looked away, lost in thought.

Suddenly he looked back to Koran. “But I am NOT going to shake your hand.”