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The sun never sets in Norvrandt, nor does it rise. This is to be expected with the flood of Light but that doesn’t make you ache any less for the bright oranges that are casts within that time.You’d quite like to see the sunset over Rak’tika.
The rest of the Scions are off resting no doubt, worn out from helping out the Vii; “chores” Thancred had called them as he and Ryne had wandered off to do what they were bid. Five years on the First, five years of running around and fighting for thee people and he hadn’t changed, not really. It brought a smile to your face, to think of how you had all changed and how you hadn’t.
“Is this where you’ve sequestrated yourself off to, hero?” You turn your head to look over your shoulder. Emet-Selch strolls towards you in all his ‘glory. For a man who was supposed to be offering his aide his clothes and hair are just as immaculate as ever. So you call him on it.
“I am a being of unmeasurable power and you expect me to, what? Do chores?” Emet-Selch scoffs as he comes to stand beside you, arms hanging lazily at his side. “And you? A Lightwarden or two happen to be running about and you lower yourself to scrubbing the pots of cooks. Have you forgotten yourself?”
“People need help, regardless of what that help is. A crisis isn’t always a Calamity.” Meeting his golden gaze you hold it until he looks away with a scoff, his hands folding over his chest. Even from this angle you can see as his eyes drift aimlessly over the land. You wonder idly if there’s anything in this land that would catch and hold his attention, anything that isn’t his goal. Surely he hasn’t seen everything?
The eternal Day had struck you frozen when you had first seen it. Did it do the same to him?
Though there was plenty of room to sit in the light you had picked a spot in the shade of one of the great trees that cover Rak’tika. At home, in the Source, you had loved sitting in the sun and basking in the heat that came. Even in Coerthas you had confused the locals by sitting in snowbanks on the few sunny days that there were.
There is no sunlight here but the light still catches on Selch’s skin. It highlights the shadows that form underneath his cheekbones and turns the yellow-grey of his skin into a warm color that you can’t really put a name too. He looks regal, ephemeral, a man fitting of the title of Emperor. Ascian.
“See something you like?” His voice startles you out of your thoughts and you realize that you’ve been staring this whole time. And you’ve been caught. Emet-Selch looms over you and he openly leers are you. Warmth fills your cheeks as you catch his eyes and he winks at you. Twelves damn, he winks at you.
Flustered you stand quickly, brushing the dirt from your clothes with an angry huff. Behind you Emet-Selch laughs and laughs, doubling over where he stands. It’s the first you’ve heard him laugh rather than chuckle and you try to ignore how it pains you that you’re hearing it in this situation.
You intend to storm off, to return to Fanow and sleep with the hope that you dream of anything other than Emet-Selch.
You intend to leave. A hand prevents that.
Yanking you back into his space Emet-Selch leans in close, his breath tickling your ear.
“Fear not, dear hero. I saw something I liked as well.” You turn with your fist raised, intending on hitting him, on letting him know how you really feel. Only all you meet is the swirl of darkness as he fades away and the sound of his laughter.
Casting one more glance around the area to ensure that the man is well and truly gone you let out a frustrated sound, kicking at the dirt.