Lysander jolted out of his trance, tears flowing from his eyes.
A weeping woman in white.
A ring.
A chest.
His eyes darted to the box before him. That chest. The whispers sounded almost congratulatory, but eerie nonetheless. The young paladin stood and began pacing his small room. He’d never attempted that ritual before, and hadn’t expected the visions to be so… Vivid. Emotional. Lysander ran a hand through his hair, brushing a few stray locks from his face.
Woman in white. But not all white. There was red. The deep crimson of blood. And a ring? In a chest. That chest. Marriage? A bride, perhaps? What about the groom? Was the blood his? Did she… No, she wouldn’t be crying.
Lysander came to a stop near the chest and placed a hand on it. The whispers got just a little louder. Far be it from him to criticize, but why couldn’t an archangel give more concrete answers? Perhaps he’d have to pray on the subject some more. But not now. He still felt a drained from the ritual. Emotionally, more than anything. Maybe it was time for a walk.
He grabbed his white robe from his bed. Lysander rarely left his room without it. He hated dressing the part of paladin, desperately missing his nice, comfortable peasant garb, but he’d found that he could wear just about anything under the robe, since it covered his entire body when buttoned. Besides, it held sentimental value. His friends back in Woefeldt bought it for him.
Where to first? He could walk into town, he supposed. No, there’d be too many people. He liked that his presence seemed to cheer up the people around him, but he tended to draw crowds as a result. Maybe a walk in the woods? Clypeus had made sure to teach him wilderness navigation during his training as a Nuranihim, may as well use it… But he was still on edge from the ritual. Though his Gift protected him from fear, it did not protect him from the heebie jeebies.
Maybe he’d visit some of the farms. If he was lucky, he might even manage to convince someone to let him lend a hand. That sounded nice, he thought. A tour of the farms it was.
Another whisper came from the box. Lysander frowned before setting his testimonium atop it. The whispers stopped.