The pursuit of Purpose

"I sit on this rock as i attempt to perceive reality. Father Sun rose in the
morning and now sets in the distance, and surely in its place will come the
moon. They say this cycle is what defines time, yet it is itself never-ending, a
clear definition of eternity.
What truly creates a sense of time is the number of sunsets you stare into,
simply waiting for a purpose."
- Sessaru d'Shallyon

The great winged wyvern landed with a thud upon the mountain peak, sending up
clouds of dust all around. Sessaru d'Shallyon hopped down, his eyes fixed on the
spetacular scenery that never ceased to amaze him. A dazzling blanket of orange,
yelow and blue covered the skies, it's source from just above the horizon where
Father Sun seemed to rest. The mountain range of Avechna`s Teeth spanned the
eastern side of the continent, and Sessaru was at the very top of one of
Avechna's highest peak at the north, where just below him the whole land of
Lusternia could be seen within a single scenery. The peak itself was simply a
huge boulder generally covered in snow during the fall and winter seasons, yet
as it was mid-summer, the peak was a dusty flat area. The area was all too
familiar to Sessaru. He had been there countless times before, seeking the
silence of being miles away from the slightest signs of life. He bonded with the
place, sharing an eternal sense of solitude. Although it wasn't winter, the air
was awfully cold and thin due to the spetacular height, and Sessaru found it
quite refreshing. Time seemed to always drag when he was there.
Letting out a faint smile, he comforted the winged beast as she lowered her
head to accept the sign of affection. At 14 years of age, Sakira was a young
wyvern, spanning 17 feet from the tip of her tail to her head, with a height of
nearly nine feet while standing on all four legs. She had been a life long
companion to Sessaru. He had been given the wyvern in her first year of life
upon his graduation with honours at the College of Necromantic Research. He
scoffed upon the thought of those days. If there was one thing from his past
that he did not frown upon, it was Sakira. At that moment, she was his only
companion.
He walked down to the edge of the cliff and adjusted his robes to sit on a
familiar rock that protruded about 3 feet from the barren ground. A chilling
breeze managed to sway the mass of dreadlocks that hung behind the human just
past his shoulders. For a guardian mage, he had a robust figure, and the
contours of his chest muscles were seen through his tight-fitted robes. His face
was notably tanned, and his eyes glowed a flickering orange beneath a wide
forehead. This afternoon there were few clouds, and the outlines of the four
great cities of Lusternia could be seen against the golden lights of the sunset.
What would immediately always catch his attention however, was the dark,
sinister cloud that dwelled over the great city of Magnagora. Until just a few
months ago, that city was his home. He had managed a notable position in the
House of Nihilists, mages dedicated to the study and harnessing of necromantic
powers. He did not know how he ended up there; he could only recall the
countless hours of his youth spent in the ritual chambers of the Necromancer's
College. His superiors would always refuse to comment on his origins, much less
on
his family's whereabouts. After a while he stopped caring all together. He was
far ahead of all the other students, and he was given special attention for his
academic prowess. The leaders had given him standards to live up to; they had
given him a purpose. He needed that, though it was barely enough to fill the
emptiness inside of him that constantly questioned the meaning to his life.
The vague silhouette of the Megalith of doom could be made out in the center of
the city. It was a tower of stone that transcended above all of Magnagora. It
was the city's nexus of power- from it flowed an almost seemingly endless amount
of energy that tainted and corrupted all of whom it came in contact with. It was
a source of evil that controlled the living to its bidding. Sessaru was no
exception. From the days of his youth- at the very age of 9 to just a few months
prior to present time (for a total of 22 years) he served the
Megalith. The human, however, was slightly different. The tainted energy would
transfigure all living races upon connection, and while in union with the
energy, the megalith was free to fully animate the living being at will. Yet the
megalith only succeeded in altering the eyes of Sessaru to that of a fiery
yellow, which would flicker like flames of fire during union with the energy.
What is more, the energy never succeeded in dominating the human's mind. During
the unity, it could simply suggest commands within his conscious, yet never
controlling his freewill.
It had been 70 days since his failure of safely escorting a noble of the
d'Murani family. The noble was a merchant, refusing to part with his caravan for
the safety of teleportation (which was limited to the very clothes on one's
back). The noble had funded the research done by the Nihilists for a great many
years, and had even paid a relatively large amount of gold on that particular
evening in return for the protection of one of the guild's leaders. The contract
was sealed with the promise that the noble would be safely transported to the
forests of Glomodring and back, completed upon entrance to the city gates.
Surprisingly, the assassinaton was done within the city after arrival, freeing
the guild of any conviction. Fearing the
loss of a vital sponsor and the disfavor of such a powerful House, however, the
Nihilist's Guild assured House d'Murani the head of the assassin and his family,
and approved a public humiliation of the leader responsible for the miscarriage.
Such atrocity was common by the monstrious citizens of Magnagora, especially
from the so-
called superior races of transfigured elves known as the Viscanti, that Sessaru
had passionately grown to loath. He never partook in any such events that
involved public torture, mostly for the reason that he simply didn`t care for
them. This one however, he would simply not allow.
The Ur'guards, a guild of warriors comprised mostly of dim-witted yet mighty
orcs, were issued the task of taking Sessaru into custody that afternoon.
Assuming cooperation from the human, two orcs were sent to his room by midnight
for his detention. Expecting them hours before however, Sessaru had snuck out of
the Guild Hall with an invisibility spell, for within the guild were scattered
sigils that
prevented any form of teleportation. He had already mentally summoned his
wyvern, ordering Sakira to wait in the shadows of the slums for his arrival. As
he flew away, Sessaru sensed the megalith trying to enter his conscious,
ordering him to return. Before the break of dawn, he was long gone.
He was betrayed by his guild. A wicked emotion of deception and hostility
stirred within him day and night. He knew House d'Murani would place a
remarkable bounty upon his head, sending rogues scattering across the continent,
in seek of immediate fortune. He knew also that such bounty was not in the dead
noble's honor, yet for their own petty amusement; it would simply give the house
something to do in their nonsensical lives. Sessaru had been stripped of a
purpose, only now he had his own. That city would haunt him emotionally and
physically for the rest of his life. That city needed to be torn down.

He blinked, suddenly back into reality. He had been dazed for quite some time,
mesmerized with thoughts of the past. Father Sun had continued on his journey
and was now under the horizon, leaving behind a soft diffused light across the
sky. Sessaru was without a home since, and had been abiding on a beach known as
the Toronada Flats that wasn't too far from the mountain- directly southwest
from where
he was. He could see it now, it's golden sands being the only feature visible
under the twilight. He stood up. The breeze had transposed to heavier winds
which now firmly tugged on his robes. He frowned, knowing with such gusts it
would be practically impossible to leave the peak ontop Sakira. Leaning out his
hand, shadows crawled through his arms and concentrated into an external sphere
of darkness above
his palms, gradually taking the shape of a flat rectangle, until finally
materializing into a large card. It was a tarot card, used for teleportation. On
it was an image of a beach beside a small cove, behind it a picture of an old
man with an oversized beard- a hermit, to be precise. He pressed it firmly
between his index finger and thumb, as it suddenly began to glow a faint white
light.
He was now on the very edge of the cliff. Gazing down, he could see a vague
outline of the mountain below, leading to an abyss of darkness in the distance.
He closed his eyes, feeling the undulate wind upon his face. It was soothing,
purifying his soul of all negative emotions. Swiftly it began to howl loudly and
he felt it all
around his body, taking him into its arms. A sudden sense of nausea infiltrated
his stomach, forcing him to immediately open his eyes. He loved the feeling. He
saw the cliff grow distant against the purple sky and he made out the shape of
the wyvern plunging down towards him at a blazing speed, wings tucked into her
side to gain momentum.
I`m fine Sakira... I'll see you later.
Coming to an almost immediate halt, Sakira opened her wings wide as she let out
a resonant cry that managed to reach Sessaru throughout the howls of the wind
that engulfed him. He grinned, closing his eyes once more to allow the last of
the thrill surge throughout his body. Finally, he released his hold on the tarot
card. An immediate white light besieged Sessaru, and within a flash he was gone,
leaving
behind the now burnt card to disintregate into the wind.
Father Sun was now long gone, leaving behind a pale moon looming in the starry
night to cast its gloomy light across the land.