Congregation in the Dark.

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Congregation in the Dark.

Post by Erapheus on Sun Mar 13, 2011 8:18 pm

“Light, grant us the Courage to change the things we can,”

The shadows were always moving in the Raven Hill cemetery, tormented spirits of the once slaughtered had long been deprived of their rest. The land itself squirmed in agony; the blackened trees weaved silently in the still air, as if reaching out to grasp the living flesh that had dared to enter their domain – envious of its warmth.

“Give us the strength to accept the things we can’t change,”

Amidst the near tangible stench of decay - which itself seemed to be as malicious as the land - stood a formation of figures, rigid and veiled in black.

“And the Clarity to know the difference between the two,”

The firm row of solemn expressions was in stark contrast with the writhing trees and restless dead, bringing order and discipline into the forest overrun by chaos. In the ranks stood Elves and Human alike, in harmony and unity; each covered in black armour and veiled by an atmosphere of reverence and melancholy.

“Don’t be sad-“

Before the congregation stood a pedestal of marble, a beacon of serenity in the heart of the blackened forest. It formed a stark contrast with the dark clad figures gathered around it. And so did also a beautiful young girl lying on the stone; for those around were still drawing breath – and she was not.

“She is in a snowflake,”

Her snow-white gown was spotless and without a wrinkle, and on her chest lay a black rose and a cleaned wound. As easily as the sharp object had penetrated her heart, the words woven in the air penetrated the hearts of those gathered.

“She is in the rays of sun,”

The presence more unwavering than that of frigid girl stood beside the stone pedestal. The black-clad man preached with a gentle and steady voice, his posture straight and solemn. His face was filled with compassion and understanding, his eyes sparkled with wisdom and humility of an old man who has seen enough to understand the insignificance of us all. He was their Shepherd.

“She is in the sparkling of stars”

The combined light of the stars illuminated the waist of the preacher, and sparkled on the blade of the dagger the Shepherd had used to kill his lamb.

Sway to the rhythm of the new world order.

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Join date : 2010-02-28

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