Enter Angst
Bleak, hard morning. Cold permeating the surrounding hills. I liked it that
way. I was on a one way road straight to Caemlyn, no turning back now, the
official Whitecloak mantle awaited me. I would be proud, morally upright, set
an example for the whole of the world with their heretic attitudes. Yet, why
did I feel this dread, permeating my every motion, coating my soul with
metaphorical soot. Why did I feel this venture as unclean, defying the very
nature of the light? This is not the attitude of a proper Whitecloak, such
thoughts should be eradicated, yet that whole concept was repugnant to me. I
focused upon the inner light within me, but even that only partially quelled my
worries, mediation could not clear this filth from my mind. I was startled out
of my trance by the sound of the horn, it was time to continue my journey to
Caemlyn and finally reach my goal of these past four years, the ordination into
the divine order of the Whitecloak. At that thought the Nausea hit me again,
but with a determined effort I pushed it to the back of my mind as I mounted
Elvier, my mount and companion in solitude. Sometimes I thought the horse was
the only one that understood me, my tragic fate and his forever tied with the
strings of eternity. I let him carry me on, on into the wind, towards the city
of my destiny, where my hopes and fears would be validated, my destiny
fulfilled, my faith confirmed.
Jean Pierre Vorksagian
Whitecloak Initiate
On his way to Caemlyn
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Email: malia94@hotmail.com
