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[Tay Thormear]

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Tired from training he made his way to the Armunn house. He remembered Tarothin had left with Porthos to speak with him. The cold breeze blew against his face, causing his hair to sway behind him. He had met Tarothins daughter tonight, she wasn’t a very pleasant girl.

Reaching the Armunn house he forced open the large metal doors. Down the hallway he walked, again forcing open large metal doors. He arrived at the room he assumed they’d be in and began knocking on the door. After a few minutes of no reply he checked up stairs, no one there either. Getting frustrated he returned to the room and peaked inside the door. Before he knew it a small person in a green hooded shroud was questioning him. Demanding to know why he was there, she stood her ground firmly. Beowulf ignored her and looked past to Tarothin.

“Everything alrigh’?” he asked.

“Yes, everything is fine.” Tarothin replied in a calm tone.

“Just thought I’d check up on things,” Beo informed him. The little girl still stood her ground. Now she grew even bitterer, perhaps it was past her bedtime.

“This is a private meeting. Leave now.” She spoke coldly.

Chuckling quietly he tapped her on her metal plate helm. “You be a good girl now.” He told her, while chuckling, than he turned and made his way outside.

Pulling open the metals doors he stepped outside. Beowulf began a series of ritual movements to summon his magical steed. He heard small footsteps scampering behind him. Turning around to see what she wanted he was met with the tip of a kryss. Stunned slightly, he glanced down to where she had hit him. There was no rip in his leather, but for a little girl it sure had hurt. Glancing back up to her she came in flailing her kryss around. He allowed her to hit him a few times before sighing. Muttering to himself he quickly let out a series of spells, quickly dropping her to the ground.

Chuckling to himself he helped her regain consciousness. Gathering her things quickly she told him she had used the wrong weapon.

“Silly girl.” He said kindly, he thought.

“Well fought.” They were the only words she said before going back into the house.

Beowulf took off, galloping around a few corners before reaching his home. He couldn’t help but smiling at what was waiting for him on his porch. Sitting on the bench waiting for him was his beautiful wife, Tatiana. Looking up to Beowulf she smiled brightly as he descended from his magical mount. The two exchanged words for a bit and made their way upstairs into their room.

Beowulf had been dreading this moment all night long. He kneeled down in front of her while she sat on the edge of the bed. He took her hands in his and spoke reluctantly informing her of events that had happened earlier in the evening. His words came out very somber, explaining possible steps for their future. It wasn’t how he thought it was going to be, and decisions were mad harder than ever. As he finished she raised his hand to her heart and held in there tightly.

“Don’t do things for me that make you sad. Do things for yourself, and live your life how you want.”

“Bah, yer safety is all that matters to me. It will not make me sad to take care of you. It might leave another empty space in my heart, but I rather have that than have my entire heart shattered because yer unsafe.”

Finishing up with the long conversation and debate the two climbed into bed. Holding Tati close he watched her fall asleep. It wasn’t long after that his eyes too dozed off into another life.

* * *

Skulls flashed on and off in front of him. People hung from poles, and children danced along the roads. Skeletons erupted from the ground, and lightning struck all around him. A large skull flashed before him, a morbid feature. Pain shot through his entire body, and he shot up, sitting up straight.

Sweat pored down his face; blood trickled from his eyes and his nose. Wiping his arm across his face he cleared the blood from his nose. Rushing into his office he wiped his eyes with cloth. Placing his hands on his table he leaned forward, breathing heavily he recapped his dream. He had a vision this night, one that disturbed him. The vision had spoken to him; spoke to him in a way he never thought possible. Shivering slightly he crept back in the room. Opening the armoire quietly, he suited up with his armor. Pulling his shroud around him and pulling the hood over his head he took outside.

Why did he have this vision? What did it mean? What was going to happen to him, or others? Questions needed answers, but what to do? Growing frustrated he summoned his magical steed and rode off into the night. Having no idea what was waiting for him, or his family. Who would he turn to for answers?