Fleeing the past (Invite only)

[Otho Sarus]

The ambient birdsong and soft croaks and calls of the various insects and animals that inhabited the gardens filled the dew covered gardens with the sweet sound of morning as the sun rose, a new day dawning in the pale blue dome of the heavens.
Suddenly, a barely audible crack echoed throughout the walled gardens, as a purple robed old man appeared amongst the veritable cornucopia of colours, his robe right at home below the brilliant purple flowers of the buddleia. His face however, was a mask of pain as dark as a thunderstorm. His eyes were hard, yet held back a flood of sorrow and regret, and his grey brows were knotted in a deep frown.
Otho Sarus had shed his illusion, and now looked all the more like the powerful sorceror he was, save for the grief that burned behind his eyes. His close trimmed grey beard sat neatly upon his strong jaw, and his sharp features were only lightly creased by wrinkles. His long grey hair hung loosely about his shoulders, floating about in the crisp morning breeze as he collapsed to his knees, falling onto the soft green grass, before falling backwards to sit up on the ground.
Surrounded by nature's beauty, he looked all the more glum. Even his vibrant purple eyes seemed to have faded somewhat, but it may have been a trick of the light. Otho sighed heavily, shaking his head as he toyed idly with his long wooden staff, looking down at the ground in abject sorrow. He had to leave, he could not have stayed - not in front of so many people.

[Kiara Karador]

The slight breeze that now drifted into the sanctity of the garden spot where the Sorcerer now sat, a most grievous expression on his face and a terrible heavy pain in his heart carried with it a cool mist that seemed to swirl about the old character, and even now seemed to brush against his cheek as if a cold hand caressed him lightly before that mist formed into the ghostly appearance of Kiara again.

She stood to his right, her pale, ghostly features sad as she looked down at the Sorcerer. She had followed him when he disappeared from the Ball Room, his final, and only words still playing about in the ghost’s mind. It saddened her that he should feel so pained from what had transpired over 2000 years ago, truly, it was not his fault, not one bit his fault. As in the end it wasn’t the fact that he had failed against Kaldryn, no, it was the fact that she loved her sister that was her total undoing on that battlefield when she faced the mighty Dark Mage and she too, was destroyed by his foul hand. Still, if the ghostly apparition could cry, she would have, she had thought never to see him again, she had not thought him to be still alive, thought him to have perished after that fight of magic with the Mage. She knew all too well that when a magic being used all his/her energies they more often than not would either never again regain them, or, perish. Either way, he should, by all rights, not be here and she had long ago accepted the fact that he had ‘moved on’ and now, to see him, living, healthy and most powerful, was like seeing some sort of cruel illusion, something that her mind simply didn’t want to accept.

“Hello Otho…” She said in a quiet whisper as she stood before him now in her ghostly form, attired now in the same ball gown as before, the gray hues and misty appearance perfectly opposite the vibrant colors of their surroundings.

[Otho Sarus]

The old sorceror felt the soft caress of an immaterial hand upon his bearded cheek, felt her there, felt her presence. Even in death her mind exuded that same aura, and it felt all too real. Otho wanted to be oblivious to it, to shut it out and be rid of it, for as strongly as she shone with brilliant determination, strength of will and love, she felt cold, distant - dead. She was dead.
how long had it been since he had allowed himself to admit the awful truth. Young Kiara was no longer among the living, and no longer so young. Her life had been stolen, snatched away in the jaws of that vile beast. A beast that he had failed to slay. He had never forgiven himself for allowing it to come to this. Why had he not confronted Kaldryn sooner? Why had he not dealt with the evil sorceror as a child? He could have rid the world of that foul creature, he should have. He could have prevented all of this, the destruction, the suffering and the ultimate sacrifice of two of his closest friends. So many questions, so many worries, and all impossible to justify or answer, either way.
Otho looked up, blinking as his eyes met with those of the ghostly apparition before him. A single crystal tear ran down his weathered face, "Hello, Kiara." He sighed heavily, "I’m. . ." He swallowed hard, "I'm. . ." The old sorceror breathed deeply, "So sorry. . ."

[Kiara Karador]

Kiara sighed, a ghostly sound to match her misty appearance. She stepped lightly over to stand now directly in front of the old Sorcerer, her onyx eyes, the one trait about the apparition that always seemed to still be alive, peering down at him from her silent stance.

“No Otho… No, you have nothing to apologize for.” She stated, her voice coming to him in a shadowy whisper of tormented sadness. “Kaldryn was no more your fault than mine own. Hath it not been for the love of mine own blood, I would be were mine own sister now resides, and she where I am… this is not any of your fault, nay, it is of the blame of the Dark Mage and none other. This deceit he hath woven throughout our entire knitted fiber as a whole, is not but his own trickery to rend us apart, create foul thoughts of depression and loathing of our own selves in a sick hope to divide us.” She continued, her voice moving out with grace and a resolve like none other. “There is not any way you could have known his strength, nor as to what he would become in his later years my dear sweet uncle Otho… please, do not mourn my loss, I am still here… I will always tread these lands; long after all this hath been once again, not but a memory in the souls of the survivors.” She concluded, now taking a seat to his left, her ghostly figure resting on the ground beside him, her onyx eyes lighting up as nothing ever before.

Kiara knew a lot about what was going on around the realm, and perhaps a bit more than most. She had eyes and ears that extended far past the normal range of any living being, ways to find information, though, the identity of the Necromancer still eluded even her reaches, he was not her concern however. It was Kaldryn that consumed her thoughts and her main thought was of the highest revenge. Though just now, even Kaldryn was forced from her thoughts, as at this moment in time, she had realized that the sacrifice she had made so long ago, was perhaps the very thing that had empowered the Dark Mage to once again live, as he had missed his target the first time, being the monster he was, he was destined to return to claim what had been denied him the first round, Kalista was in gave danger, and Kiara knew she needed Otho more than any other living soul to help protect her sister form Kaldryn’s rather firm grip on reality, as well, keeping the mind of the Queen of Karador from harm. But, she would bring that up after she had hopefully squashed any remorse that the old Sorcerer had about his misgivings of the past, a past that could not be relived, a past that in the end, worked its way through to the greater of good.