Arsafaal – OOG Shutter 01

(Tyvian Meer has seen much to disbelieve in the events these weeks past. Bregg’s words have not quite stricken his brain. The sun is just beginning its ascent. The morning mist cooks from the backs of desert grass. His companions before and behind take steps toward Amendar. The horse huffs the dust from its nostrils. The wind beats a last few breaths before the sun bakes the air from the sky. And yet. And yet. And yet. He feels he must see beyond what has been seen. Tyvian Meer. Priest. Son. Boy. Father. Brood stud. Fallen. Fallen. Fallen. Soiled. Tainted. Engorged. Spent. Driven. Excited. Spent. Engorged. Priest. Fallen. Father. Brood stud. Father. Son. Son. Son. Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonson…)

“Tyvian. Son. Soon you shall count yourself amongst the few. The givers of life. The hands that tear at the meat of her gash. Into this Wyrld he shall be reborn. You shall be one with us all. Look at you. Look at you Tyvian. Son.”

(The stranger gestures with an open hand toward the dark spot in Tyvian’s robes where few have ever tasted. And he is excited and rigid to an extreme. He is wet. And the PAIN is exhilarating.)


(Tyvian awakens in the sand, looking through quartzen eyes at an emerald sky. All begins to sharpen, as Rogan’s face comes clearer.)

“Brother! Tyvian…are you alright?”