8th Winter 512
The Eye of Syna: Evening- Close to the 20th Bell
The air was cold, bitter, the warmth of the day had been replaced by the cool of the night, but it was in the cool of the night that Corneliun preferred. And so the mixed blood walked, but instead of wearing the coat off his shoulders as he usually did he instead wore it correctly, and so protecting him from the chill. He stopped to take in the air, his eyes turning to face the Eye of Syna, a sight that he had grown use to in his years of residing in Ahnatep. He vaguely remembered this being one of the first locations his father took him too, but he was a child at the time, and the memory itself was distant. How many years had it been now? He rubbed his brow with thought, before turning his eye to the Temple. He focused on it, before pulling his attention away. In all his years that he had lived he had yet to set foot beyond those elaborate bronze doors, and he had no intention to break that habit.
He glanced about in the dying light, his eyes adjusting to the gloom before he made himself walk on. Even when armed with a sword and being relatively competent in its use, he still preferred not to use it. Drawing it caused unnecessary attention, something he learned quickly when defending in public. It always paid off to use your fists, sure waving a sword around was good and such, but it got you into a lot more trouble with the Jackals, the racist little shykes. The man rolled his shoulders back, his hand falling to his sword scabbard for reassurance, keeping his eyes keen as he stepped through the darkness, appearing to many as a pale ghost that walked the night time streets. His own private patrol, his form of keeping himself entertained in the colder nights. It was better than heading back to where he was sleeping, in the cramped space with four walls surrounding him, alone with no one else to talk to. It constricted the mind, and stopped the art of communication, something that Corneliun was rather fond of. Speaking helped ease pain, to lift burdens and realise that one did not stand alone in the world. He stopped himself again at the oasis edge, giving him a different angle in which to perceive things, to see the world and question its every move by the very few that moved about in the shadow of the darkness. It was night after all that the shadow of Ahnatep came into play.