Vanguards of the Great Journey-Path of Righteousness
Posted By: Arbiter<swiftstick31@yahoo.com>
Date: 4 November 2005, 1:00 pm
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Vanguards of the Great Journey
SkyL
II
Path of Righteousness
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Fond memories…
The Phantom purled into space, High Charity the holy dominance and haven of the Covenant blinked at the dropship from the stars. The revered city hastily winced from space leaving nothing but a blank void of sable black.
The Arbiter inside the dropship inhaled an enormous burden of guilt, repression, and tension. Selected from sovereignty and trained by sanctity, Bela 'Lehammee was transformed from a spy to a dedicated Arbiter.
A large burden to carry, one that is hallowed and devout, but 'Lehammee recognized the distension of honor all to well. His mother and father were beset by their lineage, the history of venerable Elites passing down their faith and distinct crest to their sons. Yes, all to well, the Arbiter was swayed with the constant loyalty of his father. As a child he endured blessings of ranks and swelled in the greed of wisdom.
'Lehammee shifted in his armor with an uneasy pride, this pride he hadn't felt in a long time, and made him feel greatly perplexed. The Arbiter childishly played with his hilt; the sacred writing indicating traditional weaves were bent on the handgrip creating the Mark of Praise.
The Arbiter curved his mandibles in a reflective expression he looked at the Mark with a certain pain of exultation. The Mark of Praise etched into his mind and he retained that proud day with discomfort and gladness…
* * *
"Come, Bela and I will show you the true Covenant" The Councilor greeted his son…
Bela 'Lehammee took his father's palm and they slipped onto a jagged path where Forerunner alloy parted into a lucid valley.
A creek leaked into the basin propelling a massive waterfall into shrubs of fine pitch. The bushes crinkled into a wild pattern of immortalizing ancientness, spanning into piercing scenery.
The young Elite clicked his mandibles in boyish impatience and they continued when he heard the sound of cheering and applause.
The next valley was bustling with hovering stands; benches stretching into tiers of purple each holding denizens of Covenant beings. The buzz of Drone laborers filled the tranquil scene and the bellowing praises of Elite warriors stirred emotions.
At the center of the valley the Prophet Hierarch, Mercy hovered above the stony cobbles with a silent wisdom. The praise continued at the sight of the Councilor and Bela 'Lehammee and the uproar grew, yet with a noiseless enlightenment at the same time.
"Father?" 'Lehammee asked gazing upon the crowd.
The Councilor pushed his son forward to the center stage where the Prophet peacefully wavered.
They both kneeled at the Prophet's imperial dais in esteem and Mercy ushered them up with a beaming assertion.
"Noble Mercy?" Bela 'Lehammee stated in a revering tone.
Mercy raised his hands, ignoring the stretched garments under his robes that covered his fingers. Silence followed the hands and Mercy floated forward to the child.
"Young Bela 'Lehammee, son of the great Eleir 'Lehammee and withheld brave of our Covenant. Your reputation has incessantly surpassed the Master's of your age, and you have been guided into glory as a mere child. For your leading services for the Covenant you will bestowed with what you are worth…"
The young Elite sweat as the Prophet placed a clammy hand on his forehead…
"The Covenant shall honor Bela 'Lehammee!" Mercy declared.
The Prophet waved a hand from his robes and a Honor Guard brought a silver receptacle.
The receptacle was layered with ribbons of purple and silver and a emission of cold air expelled from the cube.
Mercy took the box from the Honor Guard with easy grace and opened it with a touch of a finger.
The cube opened revealing a hilt of an Energy Sword. The hilt had embers of fire trickling into the creases giving it a ghostly shine.
The Councilor put his hand on 'Lehammee's shoulder…It was upright…
'Lehammee reached into the box and felt the hilt, he gripped the sound handle and felt burning in his palm…
At every painful stab of searing he grasped it even tighter, yet he felt falteringly cold.
He yelled in agony at the blaring scorch…
Then at the back of his mind his consciousness pulled him…
His instincts kicked and reacted…
He ignited the Energy Sword with a curl of his arm, and the pain suddenly stopped, but the cold swept through him like ice…
He looked at the blade, glossy and powerful, it symbolized remembrance and endowment.
'Lehammee spread his fingers and saw a emblem in the center of the hilt.
The Mark of Praise was seared into his blade…
* * *
At the thought of a memory, the Arbiter swiftly slipped back into reality…
The same Mark created a sense of pride and honor that could be remade until there was nothing to be undone…
Praise, peace, skill, intelligence, and combatant…
The Arbiter was all those things, attributes that made his existence…
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