[It isn't unusual these days to see him wandering about the Crystarium now that the night has returned to Norvrandt, though now and then he does hole himself up within the confines of the Tower to bury himself in his research and tomes. What is unusual is to find him wandering the roads through Lakeland, much less on his own, and still as much as the people of his city love and worry about him, they let him pass without much more than a curious glance in his direction and a polite nod.]
[For all of his gentle and caring nature, they've seen him wield his powers against the threats to their people, both with pen and with staff. They do not fear for him, and they know his need for solitude, his need to see with his own eyes the land in the Light and in the Dark. They know, because now and then, they need it too.]
[So it is that the Exarch finds himself down near the lake, still and serene in the winds that blow across it, chest swelling as he watches the moon drift through the sky, the stars its companions. He could stay like this all night if he wanted. Duty will call to him eventually, but this time he has given to himself. It isn't often at all that he grants himself this, but so soon after his friend's departure, he has needed it.]
[And he needs to see it. He needs to know it's real. He could watch this forever... and he does, until a soft sound off between the trees somewhere to his side catches his ear. Perhaps Captain Lyna, perhaps one of the soldiers or vagrants peddling wares from city to city, he thinks. He turns to greet them, only to see a sight almost as unusual as himself standing there in the darkness. Yet as striking as this figure is, he does not hide himself.]
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[For all of his gentle and caring nature, they've seen him wield his powers against the threats to their people, both with pen and with staff. They do not fear for him, and they know his need for solitude, his need to see with his own eyes the land in the Light and in the Dark. They know, because now and then, they need it too.]
[So it is that the Exarch finds himself down near the lake, still and serene in the winds that blow across it, chest swelling as he watches the moon drift through the sky, the stars its companions. He could stay like this all night if he wanted. Duty will call to him eventually, but this time he has given to himself. It isn't often at all that he grants himself this, but so soon after his friend's departure, he has needed it.]
[And he needs to see it. He needs to know it's real. He could watch this forever... and he does, until a soft sound off between the trees somewhere to his side catches his ear. Perhaps Captain Lyna, perhaps one of the soldiers or vagrants peddling wares from city to city, he thinks. He turns to greet them, only to see a sight almost as unusual as himself standing there in the darkness. Yet as striking as this figure is, he does not hide himself.]
Good evening, friend.
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