“Where are we going?”
Ransom had been watching the intricate crystal Elanor was staring into, amused and a bit bemused. He personally only knew one other person who could scry with any accuracy, and she had died two winters ago of old age.
Elwyn’s approach had been unnoticed, though her question was not. He smiled warmly and shook his head to clear his mind before turning to face her.
“Where are we going? Our bodies will return to the earth from whence it came, and our souls shall journey to the Blessed Lands. But I suppose that’s not the answer you’re looking for. In truth, I have not a clue.”
[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]
[ October 11, 2002: Message edited by: Ransom ]
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"The blood of the dead mixes with the the flowing sand and grants more power to the killer."--Gaara of the Desert
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