#afutilesearch

He wondered if others had ever felt this cold. The light blanket of white that barely coated the surface of both wood and stone gave the entire place an ethereal look. As if Heaven and the Gods above decided this would stand as a shrine, a relic and monument, a preservation of the past.  His fingers splayed out to drag themselves across the wall, disturbing the snow that had lay so dormant and untouched. A marring of the delicate scene, a disturbance in such well-preserved history. His hand drifted away as he stepped towards the blocked hallway, head tilted upwards towards the column of white light that flooded inwards and provided the light for the entire section. A snow flake drifted down to land on the tip of his nose.  That frosted white cloud melded well with the clear sky and the drifting snow. Chest rising and falling with each increasingly heavier breath taken. 

“Where’re ya takin’ me?”

Only the howling wind and the ominous silence greeted him.  A hawk flew past the distant column of ruined rock, dipping below out of sight before its screech carried across the vast horizon. A sharp, chilling gust blew through.

“Why’s it ‘ere?”

Silence reigned. The only answer came from the contemplation forced upon Talan as he stood there.

A sole soul stuck in the past.

Bustling footsteps, the lively sound of drinks being poured and overflowing as men waved them to and fro. Exaggerated stories, desperate lies, and the bitter truth swirled together in that cacophony of noise that enveloped the entire interior. The Roe standing behind the counter laughed as three burly men attempted to argue about who could bed the tavern waitress first. “No, no, boy,  women love a man who is strong!” The claimant rolled up the frayed cloth of his shirt, flexing muscles that seemed to bulge on command. “Don’t listen to this drunken fool. A woman likes a man who is smart. Remember that, boy.”  Muscles. Smarts. Neither word fit Talan as he looked between the bulky Highlander, who seemed to pounding away ales by the second as if they were water.  Was he forever doomed in that regard? His gaze trailed over towards the Elezen, young, slender. Yet the man sipped his whiskey with as much careless regard as the highlander did, the two drunken men growing increasingly loud in their disagreement of the finer qualities and attributes the fairer sex might find attractive. Talan frowned. Would he have no grand st ories to tell? Was he doomed to that life of simple pleasantries forever? Was he truly so blind that he didn’t know how to even approach the very subject that they were discussing? A hand clasped his shoulder, a familiar set of sapphire eyes took hold. “Stop listening to the drunken fools and ramblings. You didn’t take upon the training to woo women, come.” Talan was led astray, much to the dismay and protest of his temporary drinking buddies. Dragged over towards the bar, he settled across from his self-ordained mentor and watched as the heavy-set Roe lumbered down their way to fetch two flagons and tp them off with ale once more. Talan let the froth settle as his mentor happily indulged.