The Lion King
The Fortress of Dawn
Late afternoon
The final stretch was always the hardest. It was a climb he'd done before, albeit a long time ago. The mountain path was treacherous, as they so often are; at times the path widened enough to allow one to walk unhindered, but most of the time it required one to keep a close eye on where they placed their feet. A strong rope prevented one from falling over the side, tied between iron spikes designed to stick to the hard rock through any weather. If there was one thing the Valkyri had learned better than most other species, it was traversing mountainous terrain, and therefore had developed a plethora of tools with which to do it.
There was a roaring blizzard; hard winds coupled with heavy snowfall. By the time Thurion spotted the first faint light of lanterns in the distance, his furs and leathers had turned almost pure white. Flakes of ice clung to his beard and his cheeks had turned ruddy from the harsh cold.
Finally he reached the gates of the Fortress of Dawn, and from where he stood looking up he spotted dark figures moving upon the ramparts. "Halt! Who goes there," they called out over the roar of the storm. Pulling back his cowl, the lone wanderer stated his name. "Thurion, of House Heavenshield!"
If he'd been able to see the man atop the walls at all, he would have seen a man in disbelief. "Open-- Open the gates!" With a loud creaking the iron gates were swung open from the inside, and another temple guard appeared holding a torch. "Master Heavenshield! Your Grace--" A reassuring pat on the shoulder from Thurion stayed the man's shock. "Please, this way. You'll be wanting to see the Grandmaster, aye?"
Once inside the high walls of the mountain fortress, the wind subsided somewhat and he was able to shake the chill of the road from his bones, and within the area opened up into a vast courtyard only fit for a Jedi temple. Cattle in the form of bovines and sheep huddled together to weather the blizzard in their pens, and a stray hen raced across the grounds heading for its roost. "Nothing's changed one bit," Thurion remarked fondly.
Then, as he was led through the courtyard, he set eyes upon the statue of the Dawnbringer at its center. It was an all-together different depiction of his father from the proud, stoic one found at Heavenheim; this one, which was actually a set of bronze statues, depicted a simple man flanked by his two young boys. The smaller of the two sat upon his shoulder and pointed to the stars with wonder etched on his face, while the older clutched his hand with similar awe.
It was a depiction of what could have been, had fate been kinder to them. It was a depiction King Thyrian himself had requested of the sculptor as the finishing touches were made to the Fortress of Dawn, to pay tribute to the man behind the legend.
"The Grandmaster is inside, overseeing a fresh batch of recruits. We've received more applicants these last few weeks than all of last year," the guard informed him while they made for the temple entrance. They came to a stop just outside, and the man turned to him. "Is it true what they say, Your Grace? Did you slay the Crone in single combat?"
Thurion offered a blank stare, before offering a soft nod. "You should get back to your post, guardsman. I know the way. May the Force be with you."
Once left alone, he reached into his pack to produce a bouquet of flowers from their garden at home he'd taken great pains to keep as pristine as when he picked them. He entered the temple in search for his beloved.
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