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[Rufus Oryan]

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Rufus's eyes opened slowly. He took in a deep breath laying on his back, staring at the ceiling of the Legion Stronghold. It had been several days, and his wounds had healed much quicker than he assumed they would. As he sat up, a slight pain shot through his belly, he twitched a bit, and raised his right hand to brush the marking under his eye. His cheek was cold, as if brushed by the hands of death. He took in another deep breath, looking about the room. He pushed the blanket from him, and sat along the side of the bed. He rubbed his face a bit more, narrowing his eyes as the cold feeling traveled to his fingertips. It was an odd sensation about his body, as if he had been moved. Almost, as the feeling one receives when they have a dream that was so real, that in their awakening, Reality seems to have shifted to comfort their slumbers end. Rufus lowered his eyes a bit, looking to his tattooed arm; the Ouroboros resting on his biceps. He smiled a bit, chewing on his lip as he often did, while he imagined Alarin standing near him. His mind allowed him to ponder such as if it were easy to remember, and nay a painful moment in time.

"Rest well, Son of my heart."

Rufus almost muttered the words himself, though he could not remember their origin. Perhaps it twas a dream. It seemed that the time had come for Rufus to test his recovery. Vaen and his compatriots had tended to him quite well, and it seemed that he was as energetic as ever. He stood slowly, walking around the room, bracing himself for the sharp pain he had become accustomed to in the days past. It seemed the worst was almost over. But still he pondered on what he would tell the peoples who cared. What would he tell Vaen? But with that, another question...with what price did this aid come? Rufus stood in the center of the room, allowing his mind to drift. He envisioned Vaen in full armor, standing at the docks of Nujel'm; and Rufus, it's Grand Sultan, stripped of his colors, watching as Nujel'm's pride faded...

Perhaps the time had come pray again, a thing Rufus strayed from most recently. Mayhaps his situation would be different if he had just remembered the principles he held dear. He sighed aloud, and fell to his knees. The bloody cloth around his torso, slid a bit as Rufus closed his eyes, bowing his head low to the ground and entering a state of prayer and meditation. He pondered the rebirth Alarin had scribed for him sometime ago...mayhaps it was near.

"Rest well, Son of my heart."

At the end of his meditation, Rufus knew Vaen would visit again, questioning, and pondering upon Rufus's long winded responses. So now, he would reenter the bed, meditating, awaiting Vaen's return...
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"Balance - the harmony between the Principles of Order and Chaos...Harmony, Dedication and Rationality, the three Principles of Balance, are our highest ideals."