Eleazar
07-10-06, 05:22 PM
((SOLO))
The Cerulean Tomorrow: Prologue
Eleazar grudgingly walked out of the crowded Gemslight Manor, stepping into the heavy downpour of the night’s cold rain. The Scara Brae police had decided to do their job and close off the area with their usual yellow band, engraved with the words Please Do Not Cross. Their investigation concerning the death of Miss Paris Gemslight was not going too well. Some nobles refused to leave, wanting an exposing part in the tragic incident. Many other nobles were rushing out the great oak wood doors of the Manor, panicked that a homicidal murderer was on the loose. Reporters and journalists from various publications had begun to arrive, asking random people about the murderous incident, working extremely hard to get the best and most outrageous rumours. Also, the police had no leads at all, which made their investigation just a little bit more difficult. With his shoulder brushing against an obnoxiously loud policewoman dressed in her black and blue uniform, Eleazar walked away, with his head hanging dreadfully low and carrying his simple black mask in hand.
The biting rain seeped into Eleazar’s white skin and cut right into his bones. His black hair was plastered upon his striking face and his clothes were no better, sticking to his lithe body like multi-coloured leeches. His black leather shoes were filled with water, with his feet squishing and squashing away at every step. His sheathed steel sword Silver Beach hung along his side, hidden by his blue and white imperial coat. A screaming gust of wind blew right into Eleazar’s direction, making him shiver from the cold of the lively night. The regretting young noble trudged away in silence, despite the noise the police cars and the nobles made. His striking ice blue eyes searched for an inn to stay at, desperate for some comfort and warmth. It did not matter the condition of the tavern or who it housed; Eleazar was desperate for a fireplace and a bed, the perfect spot to do what he did best – brood.
Plodding through the heavy rainwater on the gray granite road, the young noble spotted a sign hanging off by the side of a small, withered building. He could not make out the words on the sign because of the weighty rain, but Eleazar assumed that the sign advertised something about a comfortable bed and good food. Without having anything to lose, except probably what little honour he had left, he turned the silver knob of the building and opened that door to a warm atmosphere.
“Good evening to you, sir.” A female voice chimed the moment he stepped into the door, sopping the dainty little mat sewn with a picture of a bug-eyed cow and the pink popping Welcome. The building was, luckily, an inn called Jacob’s Well. Well-kept and clean, the place was better than expected, with cheerful lights brightening up the place despite the dark midnight rainfall outside. The rich smell of mocha coffee wafted in the air and the quiet sounds of snuggling and snoring could only be heard. Looking around, Eleazar walked up to the counter slowly and dripping wet, still shocked at the horrendous act that he had committed that night. “What can I do for you?” she said, ignoring that dejected face of the young noble.
Can you turn back Time? Can you bring Paris Gemslight back to life? Can you give me back my honour? Can you reintroduce me to my morals? Can you tell what I did was wrong?
“I would…,” he paused, wiping his face to conceal the tears running down his pitiful face. “I would like a room, please.”
The innkeeper angled her head slightly in concern, looking into Eleazar’s bloodshot eyes. “What’s wrong, sir?” She pulled out a clean white handkerchief, designed with pink blossoms and a small waxen dove. “Do you need this?”
Eleazar took the handkerchief gratefully and forced a smile back at her. “Thank you. I would just like my room,” he said in his most polite tone. “Please.”
She smiled back at him, genuinely, like an angel. “You know what, sir? You look like you need some grace in your life. I’ll let you stay as long as you need, without payment.” Maybe she was an angel.
Grace… I’ve always gotten grace in my life. I had my parents. I had a girlfriend who loved me and who was loyal to me. I had a best friend. I had a rich life back in Moonglitter. I was even famous. I was graced with all these things I didn’t even deserve. I’ve always gotten grace in my life. I just never had the time to appreciate it.
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
“It’s the first room on your left, sir. Have a good night,” she waved back optimistically and added. “I hope you feel better in the morning.”
Eleazar winced at the seemingly impossible notion of him ever feeling any better. Every single day since the loss of his parents, Eleazar lived a life of lament and sorrow, looking forward only to the death of Joseph Fluxengard, the murderer of his parents, the destroyer of his life. Every single step he took towards his vengeful goal only cost somebody else pain. First it was the family in Brokenthorn Forest, facing off against an army of giant spiders, all because of a jewel piece. Now, he had just murdered the young defenceless Paris Gemslight, all for a stupid jewel that he did not even want to possess. And what would the Cerulean Destiny show him when he finds all its pieces? More power? It seemed very possible, for whenever he would find a new piece, it seemed that some strong awakening occurred inside of him. Would it show him where Joseph is? Most likely, too… but did he really want that? The young noble smiled weakly at the optimistic innkeeper, masking away his pain and regret.
The Cerulean Tomorrow: Prologue
Eleazar grudgingly walked out of the crowded Gemslight Manor, stepping into the heavy downpour of the night’s cold rain. The Scara Brae police had decided to do their job and close off the area with their usual yellow band, engraved with the words Please Do Not Cross. Their investigation concerning the death of Miss Paris Gemslight was not going too well. Some nobles refused to leave, wanting an exposing part in the tragic incident. Many other nobles were rushing out the great oak wood doors of the Manor, panicked that a homicidal murderer was on the loose. Reporters and journalists from various publications had begun to arrive, asking random people about the murderous incident, working extremely hard to get the best and most outrageous rumours. Also, the police had no leads at all, which made their investigation just a little bit more difficult. With his shoulder brushing against an obnoxiously loud policewoman dressed in her black and blue uniform, Eleazar walked away, with his head hanging dreadfully low and carrying his simple black mask in hand.
The biting rain seeped into Eleazar’s white skin and cut right into his bones. His black hair was plastered upon his striking face and his clothes were no better, sticking to his lithe body like multi-coloured leeches. His black leather shoes were filled with water, with his feet squishing and squashing away at every step. His sheathed steel sword Silver Beach hung along his side, hidden by his blue and white imperial coat. A screaming gust of wind blew right into Eleazar’s direction, making him shiver from the cold of the lively night. The regretting young noble trudged away in silence, despite the noise the police cars and the nobles made. His striking ice blue eyes searched for an inn to stay at, desperate for some comfort and warmth. It did not matter the condition of the tavern or who it housed; Eleazar was desperate for a fireplace and a bed, the perfect spot to do what he did best – brood.
Plodding through the heavy rainwater on the gray granite road, the young noble spotted a sign hanging off by the side of a small, withered building. He could not make out the words on the sign because of the weighty rain, but Eleazar assumed that the sign advertised something about a comfortable bed and good food. Without having anything to lose, except probably what little honour he had left, he turned the silver knob of the building and opened that door to a warm atmosphere.
“Good evening to you, sir.” A female voice chimed the moment he stepped into the door, sopping the dainty little mat sewn with a picture of a bug-eyed cow and the pink popping Welcome. The building was, luckily, an inn called Jacob’s Well. Well-kept and clean, the place was better than expected, with cheerful lights brightening up the place despite the dark midnight rainfall outside. The rich smell of mocha coffee wafted in the air and the quiet sounds of snuggling and snoring could only be heard. Looking around, Eleazar walked up to the counter slowly and dripping wet, still shocked at the horrendous act that he had committed that night. “What can I do for you?” she said, ignoring that dejected face of the young noble.
Can you turn back Time? Can you bring Paris Gemslight back to life? Can you give me back my honour? Can you reintroduce me to my morals? Can you tell what I did was wrong?
“I would…,” he paused, wiping his face to conceal the tears running down his pitiful face. “I would like a room, please.”
The innkeeper angled her head slightly in concern, looking into Eleazar’s bloodshot eyes. “What’s wrong, sir?” She pulled out a clean white handkerchief, designed with pink blossoms and a small waxen dove. “Do you need this?”
Eleazar took the handkerchief gratefully and forced a smile back at her. “Thank you. I would just like my room,” he said in his most polite tone. “Please.”
She smiled back at him, genuinely, like an angel. “You know what, sir? You look like you need some grace in your life. I’ll let you stay as long as you need, without payment.” Maybe she was an angel.
Grace… I’ve always gotten grace in my life. I had my parents. I had a girlfriend who loved me and who was loyal to me. I had a best friend. I had a rich life back in Moonglitter. I was even famous. I was graced with all these things I didn’t even deserve. I’ve always gotten grace in my life. I just never had the time to appreciate it.
“Thank you. Thank you very much.”
“It’s the first room on your left, sir. Have a good night,” she waved back optimistically and added. “I hope you feel better in the morning.”
Eleazar winced at the seemingly impossible notion of him ever feeling any better. Every single day since the loss of his parents, Eleazar lived a life of lament and sorrow, looking forward only to the death of Joseph Fluxengard, the murderer of his parents, the destroyer of his life. Every single step he took towards his vengeful goal only cost somebody else pain. First it was the family in Brokenthorn Forest, facing off against an army of giant spiders, all because of a jewel piece. Now, he had just murdered the young defenceless Paris Gemslight, all for a stupid jewel that he did not even want to possess. And what would the Cerulean Destiny show him when he finds all its pieces? More power? It seemed very possible, for whenever he would find a new piece, it seemed that some strong awakening occurred inside of him. Would it show him where Joseph is? Most likely, too… but did he really want that? The young noble smiled weakly at the optimistic innkeeper, masking away his pain and regret.