[ Wherever Sephiroth has landed, it's cold and cavernous, a set of stairs carved with what seems like the utmost care before him. The path to the stairs is framed by a pair of angelic-looking stone statues, cold and impassive. But he'll find he isn't alone.
An altar rests at the top of the stairs, upon which sits a shimmering blue flame-- one so brilliant that it's almost white, and the only source of light in the area. A young golden-haired woman stands before it, soft brown eyes large with surprise as she gazes down at the man that was suddenly slammed into existence and (likely rightfully) aggravated about it. One hand clutches at a lantern housing that same flame, but it is the blaze upon the altar that brightens, shivers, and fills the air with a sonorous tone heavy enough to make one's bones ache.
I have summoned thou here, in accordance to the wishes of Aelfric, he who hath brought the light of the First Flame to humanity.
Sephiroth, thou currently standeth upon a precipice. Should thou wish to acquire the truth of your origins and return to thine own world, accomplish the task I bequeath to you now. ]
no subject
An altar rests at the top of the stairs, upon which sits a shimmering blue flame-- one so brilliant that it's almost white, and the only source of light in the area. A young golden-haired woman stands before it, soft brown eyes large with surprise as she gazes down at the man that was suddenly slammed into existence and (likely rightfully) aggravated about it. One hand clutches at a lantern housing that same flame, but it is the blaze upon the altar that brightens, shivers, and fills the air with a sonorous tone heavy enough to make one's bones ache.
I have summoned thou here, in accordance to the wishes of Aelfric, he who hath brought the light of the First Flame to humanity.
Sephiroth, thou currently standeth upon a precipice. Should thou wish to acquire the truth of your origins and return to thine own world, accomplish the task I bequeath to you now. ]