Board Thread:Fun and Games Forum/@comment-1524575-20160216234510/@comment-26809040-20160612184915

(Fair enough)

Far above the lighthouse and all its squabbles, atop a great tower of vex stone, a lone figure sighed. Sweeping his gaze across the fields of glass, it came to rest once more on the great grey sphere that hung over mercury.

''Orange. The sun is orange. But now everything is simpler.''

The tall figure lifted a hand from its resting place atop his helm, perched in front of him atop the hilt of a sword, itself floating blade-down a few inches off the ground, wreathed in flames, and ran it across his head.

''Much has changed. But I suppose that too, is a matter of perspective.''

Where once short hair had grown, his head was now as smooth and clean as Zavala's own, back in the tower. But that change was nothing compared to his eyes. He had seen them. White as fresh snow, no iris or other features to be seen. He supposed that was a byproduct of his new sight as well. The trial had not been easy. And now he rested here, a place the disciples called "the pinnacle", and adjusted to his new vision.

Placing his hand back atop his helm in front of him, he stared up at the strangely-colored shape of the sun, and recited the parable the disciples had told him.

"The light of sol,                                                                                                Seared my soul..."

"And burned the dark from my mind." A soft voice finished from behind him.

Turning slightly, he saw the small form of a disciple, lighting incense in the stone hall behind him.

"Thank you, sister...?"

"Reria. You are welcome. How goes your adjustment?"

"Well, I suppose. As well as it can be."

Sister Reria finished lighting the incense candles, and walked over to the figure. Beside him, she appeared tiny, her head resting about a foot and a half below his. Gazing up at the sun, she spoke again.

"Your sight is different from ours, so I cannot say whether it is easy or hard to comprehend. Just remember to look to the sun. It is a great portion of the sky here, and will serve as an anchor point to you."

"My thanks, sister."

The figure returned his gaze to the star, and concentrated on the different shades of grey visible in its rippling surface. Each change of color and depth was perceptible, just muted in a single spectrum.

As the disciple paced back into the hall, he thought to himself. He would adjust. He would persist. He had sought the help of those attuned to the light in their own ways, and would be stronger for it. It was merely a matter of time.