The night was light with the shining moon overhead. Archon traveled largely in the shade, keeping his dark coat more concealed as he padded across the stark white snow. He was not in hiding- it was simply a precaution. This type of place was said to garner the words of spirits. If that were true, could Archon hear God from this pool?
As Archon approached the ring of rocks, he couldn't help but to be taken aback by the soft glow of the waters. Indeed, this place might hold some mystical properties. Archon traveled among the rocks, taking notes of their engravings. What could they mean? Were they images? Did they represent something? They seemed to be deliberate. If only Archon could understand them.
After circling, Archon stood at one end. He bowed his head and first offered his thanks to God. He tried to go into great depth about his gratitude for the success in the Abaven pack. He credited it all to God's work through Malleus. His heath and well-being, the opportunity in Abaven, even the breath in his lungs was due to the life God had given them. Through him, they too could be powerful like God. Archon was thankful, but he sought guidance. He sought knowledge.
He pleaded, please let him become a tool for God to use. Let him be powerful an steadfast in his devotion like Malleus with the courage and resourcefulness of Ashiel. Let him make them- and most importantly, The Fallen God- proud.
