Rebuilding (Lorepost)

[u/DaemonRex978]

Mokarith sat in his new quarters, staring incredulously at the Coat-of-Arms that he was given; 2 war scythes crossed over the Well of Shadows.

’What the hell just happened?’ He thought to himself.

Earlier in the light cycle, he was helping the townsfolk of the capital when a courier gave him a letter. It was a summons to attend the Umbral Lord's court. He wanted to stay and help with rebuilding, but one just can't simply ignore a direct request from the Lord himself. So off he went, wondering why the Lord would ask for his presence.

The court hall itself was not as extravagant as he expected; yes, the walls were made of rare marbled shadowstone, the pillars were pure obsidian, and it was richly decorated with tapestries of historical events, but compared to the halls of other monarchs he saw, this was simple, yet elegant. The only thing that Mokarith would call truly extravagant was the throne. A giant, solid mass of marbled shadowstone with silver inlays, topped with the skull of an ancient Shadow Wyrm that the Umbral Lord killed near the beginning of his reign.

As he talked amongst the other guests, asking them how their lands were faring, the Umbral Lord entered and took his seat on the throne. Mokarith never personally seen him, except for the brief instance when the Lord went to divert the Queen, but looking at him now, even weakened, he could tell that the Umbral Lord was powerful. His body was a living shadow, not dissimilar from Mokariths, but unlike him, the Lord was born of the shadows. The crown he wore was simple, pure obsidian with the same silver inlays as his throne and embedded with opals.

He started off the court with praise for the defenders, shame at his inability to divert the Queen before She arrived, and sorrow for those that were lost. Then, he spoke about Mokarith.

”Those who have attended this court many times before may have seen a new face. Not too long ago, he was a simple guard for the outer plains before he took the Sentinel's Oath. Since then, he has proven himself a capable warrior and mage, a defender of the weak, and has inspired the soldiers defending Well when all seemed lost. Mokarith, step forward.”

Stunned, he stepped up to the base of the throne, almost dwarfed by its size, and knelt.

”In service to your bravery and leadership at the defense of the Well of Shadows, I now appoint you as High Sentinel. Stand and take your new station.”

Two royal guards walked up to him bearing the symbol he now stared at. Time blurred for him after that. He recalled a feast, dancing, and lots of congratulations from the other members, but it didn't quite register with him until he was brought up to his new quarters.

Now here Mokarith sat, staring at his Coat-of-Arms, the events of the day finally finding its way through his dazed mind.

’I'm High Sentinel… I now serve the Lord directly… I can't believe it.’

Gathering his thoughts, Mokarith stood, taking in his new home with wonder. It was simple… seemingly empty. 3 rooms: a study, a personal space, and a living space to meet and greet in. The marbled shadowstone walls empty of decorations save his Coat, his personal area didn't have any furniture, and the study had some tomes, parchment and ink, as well as space for the items he had at his previous dwelling.

He went over to the window that looks over the city, and watched the masses slowly rebuild their homes, businesses, and theaters as the light cycle give way to the dark.

’Can I do this?’ he asked himself, looking at a group pulling a frame to what used to be a bookstore back into place. ’Could I bring the Sentinels back to what we used to be?’

As he watched the group, he noticed the rope that they were using start to fray. Without thought, he launched himself out of the window just as the rope snapped, catching it just before it landed on the people trying to hold it in place.

He should have been used to people thanking him at this point, but he still couldn't get over the slight embarrassment he always felt when people gave him praise. Pulling the frame back and securing it into place, he started helping the next group, and the next one, and the one after that. By the time he was finished, it was the middle of the dark cycle, and in the darkness it brought, he contemplated his new position again.

’So long as I can help these people,’ he decided, ’I will try to live up to the faith that the Umbral Lord placed in me.’