Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 09-13-2006, 04:50 PM   #226
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Join Date: May 2005
Location: Assigned to Mordor
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Celuien has just left Hobbiton.
"Do you really thing that's possible, Panakeia? Do you?" Anakron's voice was tense and despairing. Panakeia heard the tone, and cold fear gripped her. It was as though they were back in Lost Angles a week before, when she said her adieu to Anakron near the shores of the Pathetic Ocean, and the gulls cried above in an echo of her grief.

"Oh yes. My love, my darling! It is. Let's go now. We'll leave and never come back. They'll never find us. We'll go far away from here and be happy - as happy as we've been this week."

Anakron did not reply. His handsome face looked troubled, and Panakeia's heart ached with pity for the struggle she read in his eyes. The cloak billowed on the ground, though there was no breeze to stir its folds. Panakeia stared at the cloak and hat, and it seemed to her that the hat grew larger as she watched it. Clouds began to gather in the sky, and she shivered.

At last Anakron spoke. "Yes, I have been happy, though I fear such happiness is not to be my fate."

"No! Don't say that! Don't think it! You can leave. You gave up being the Grand Anakronist. It's over. The wizards have no hold over you."

"But do you not see? They do, and will." Anakron stepped towards the staff with his fingers outstretched.

"Anakron?" Panakeia's voice cracked as she spoke.

Anakron paused, only half-looking at her, and Panakeia leant forward to kiss him. But he did not return the embrace.

"I am sorry." Anakron pulled away and took up the staff. As he did so, a storm blew out of the east. Rain began to pour. Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, and Anakron's robe waved in the wind.
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