Immune, myth, and quill!
Quill got a liiiiiiiitle sad.
Immune:The cold wind blew through the trees of Shiverpeek Mountain. It was hitting Eaxxy and Sheara right in the face. Both wearing warm clothes, the asura more layers though.
“Ugh. It’s still hard to believe anyone could live in this cold. It’s all ice and snow and mountains. Not even a normal research station around here.” Complained the small engineer. They were off to have a ‘girls night’ with their norn friend, Rhaevee, who was already waiting for them in front of the pub that her family run. Eaxxy gave a horror struck look at the norn. “How do you not freeze to death? Your clothes don’t even have arms! That’s…that is against the laws of physics! And common sense!”“What? Oh. I guess I’m just immune to the cold.” She shrugged and let them go inside first.
Myth:Tristrham never thought the human gods more than a myth. He never saw them and even though humans worshipped them and everyone else accepted them as once real beings, he could not. He never met one, not even in the Mists, so they must have been just made up.He thought this up until now. Now, he saw one of them, the God of War in front of him and it made him tremble. He was huge, flaming and powerful. Not even with the power of the revenant could he have hoped to fight him. How did he even got in this situation? Oh, right. The Pact Commander and his stupid favors. If by some miracle both of them survive he will kick Thoernen’s ass so bad. Now he just has to see through that he indeed survives.
Quill:Ainlon got a whole lot to do. Read through reports, letters, write an answer to a lot of those. He spent hours doing just that. As he finished reading through everything, the sun was already setting down. The sylvari turned on the lights and got out empty papers to start writing the answers. He hasn’t felt like sleeping yet so at least he could spend this time useful. He took out his quill from its holder and dipped it into the ink.His quill. The one he got from Trahearne for his first birthday. It was a nice piece. A green moa feather with a purple end, the handle was silver and the nib thin. Writing with it was easy and looked really elegant and neat. It was the quill he used to write in his journal when he and the Firstborn roamed Orr, before Zhaitan’s fall. He used this to write to Quinlan too. This was the quill he lent to Trahearne when he lost his own in Orr or right before the Pact was born. This was the quill that was in so many situations but Ainlon always could keep it safe. The quill which now was trembling in his hands as his tears dripped on the paper he intended to write on, alongside with the ink from the pen. This is the quill that will remind him that he lost much more in the jungle than a Firstborn. Trahearne was his mentor, his teacher, and his brother. And he will never again ask for this quill to write anything.
