The Living Pyre
VARIN MORTIFER
Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber
He had been missing for some time now from Coruscant. The temple he had overseen had finished being built in his absence. He did not get to see its completion.
That alone was enough to frustrate him.
Since he could remember he was always someone who saw things to the very end. Missing the completion of something put under his charge was…damaging.
His body was still sore from recovery, after having suffered extensive injuries and neglect of sustenance for so long. His body was weaker now, and it disgusted him. Frailty and exhaustion had become his life. Physical therapy had shown that his strength was barely a shadow of its former self.
As he looked up to the temple that was set within the great city planet, his hand hesitated as it reached for the railings of the steps. Stairs seemed to give him extra trouble lately. It felt as if someone had dropped a speeder on his lower back whenever he climbed them.
A wince hissed through gritted teeth as he pulled himself up the stairs and its railing, the grip of his hand was enough to slightly dent the pole. Yet, he still climbed. He had to. He had to see what it looked like, it was just ahead.
He favored one leg over the other as he traversed.
Closer…
He could feel it.
His footing faltered, the bottom of his boot just slipping back from the edge of the steps causing his hand to hold his weight on the railing as he bent to one knee.
He was…winded. Exhausted. But what burned beyond that pain was anger. He glared at the ground in silence for a moment, his hand trembling as it held his weight.
But he couldn't feel it. The anger that had pushed him along so far. It gave way to something else.
A hole. Emptiness.
He struggled to pull himself back up to no avail. His body refused to move further, though the spirit was willing.
“Get…up…”
He spoke to himself between breaths.
“You have more…”
