Timestamp: 17th Day of Spring, 513 AV
Felavik is struck by the quiet as he enters the Temple of Wysar. He is always struck by it. Such quiet contrasts greatly with the constant thrum of noise Felavik had entered from not twenty seconds ago. As the doors close shut and the young Akalak takes quiet step all is forgotten. The calm, blue lighting is introspective and yet a constant reminder of Wysar's affiliation with the Lady of the Night, Akajia.
Felavik is not adorned in his usual armour choosing instead to go to this most hallowed place in a set of simple tan-coloured clothing. His Lakan remains with him however sheathed at his side. When an Akalak forges his Lakan he puts heart and soul into it. It is a piece of himself like an arm or a leg.
Felavik stops when finally he has reached the altar of Wysar. Drawing his Lakan he slips down into one knee bowing his head and holding his Lakan up in both hands is if offering it to another. “With this blade I swear before Wysar to keep the balance within myself. With this blade I pray that his wisdom give me the discipline to strike balance within and his strength give me the power to strike balance in my fair city.” Felavik prayed to his God speaking it first in Common and then speaking it in Tukant.