Mad?

[Guest ArawnD]

The silence of the crowd was absolute, the multitudes of demon, men, women, and various entities hushed as at the ground floor of the coliseum Lucifer spoke to the imp. “What do you mean, he will not come!?” the lord of darkness spoke. The crowd fills with whispers. “Bring him here.” Lucifer bellowed, and paced the platform, his feet slamming into the wooden planks. Arawn, his head still resting in the guillotine was thankful that the trail had paused, but his curiosity was peaked to what transgressions he had against the man called Stratus. From their magical prison, those that had come to rescue Arawn stood in silence. They had called him friend, but in the wake of the many testimonials, even their loyalty was shaken. Did they truly know this man, the depths of the darkness within him? The man that would call him enemy, Gyrfalcon, stood in shock and disbelief; his own crimes seemed lighter in comparison. Lucifer stopped pacing, and stood straight, his long blonde hair draping his shoulders. “Enough waiting, this trial will resume.” The statement is punctuated by a snap of his fingers, and a figure appears on the platform beside him. The mages had expected to see the warrior that had helped subdue them but instead behold an entirely different person. It is Stratus, yet gone are his armaments, he wears a simple long sleeved white shirt. The white looks so odd on his worn features almost out of place. The scars on his skin show though the flimsy material. His hair groomed back out of his eyes, which shine slightly in the light. He still wears the leather legging he had before, stained with blood in some places and discolored with patches. “Why did you deny my summons?” asks the prince of lies. Stratus looks hard at the god, and grunts, “I was not called.” As Lucifer grins a chill races up Arawn’s spine, there is a reason for this man being the last witness, but what? What wrong could overshadow his slaughtering of villages, and reaping of souls? “Ah, but we all heard.” Stratus sighs, “Stratus is a sivil.” “A sivil?” Lucifer says in mock ignorance, “Do tell.” The word sivil strikes a cord in Arawn’s memory, but a haze then closes over him, his thoughts jumble. “In my lands, sivils are the instruments of justice; they take on a new name and fight to right wrongs. If they fail, they can never reclaim their old name or previous place in life, they are better off dead. I have now completed my task, so I am no longer Stratus Hans Edgart” Lucifer smile becomes more evident, and he bows, “I am sorry, for my mistake...” he rises and turns to crowd, “But do tell, what is you true name?” The man spits onto the ground, “My name is Arawn Dan’Shir.” The crowd goes wild.

The Mad King