6 August 2012
He stood at the crossroads, devoid of direction, A Rose he laid at his feet. Standing in silence, He savoured the moment, the ritual was now complete.
The scent of Patchouli, still lingered around him, as if his soul was infused. Residues of ethereal energy, still coursing through him unused.
And he curled a smile to the moment, for his victory was assured. He knew their days where numbered, for he stood his Fathers sword.
Lucius • Opuss № I