The Graveyard shall narrate your story to the end times-
The sky held with a thick overcast for most of the day, which was dreadfully unpleasant for Tarrus Gaffery. He despised this weather, and having to walk in it was just depressing. Trudging across the moors for an hour didn't help his mood any.
Solitude was however a delight for the boy. He could hear it so well in this empty land. Whispers and giggles that made everything worth it. He had long ago fallen in love with spirits, with the faeries and the wisps. It was odd really, non-magicians thought he was mad to flirt with the invisible. Most other warlocks regarded it as a different form of madness, for what self respecting mage finds comfort with the fae?
As Tarrus was about to speak, something tapped his shoulder. Everything quieted and after a long pause, the Orator changed back to the human tongue of English.
"That was rude. Could you have waited until I finished?"
Behind him hovered a formless cloud of mist. It quickly dispersed, leaving a puff of smoke that looked much like a man's body. Wind pulled a stream of fog from the cloud being, making it appear to have wings. The featureless head carried two dim blue lights for eyes, casting an azure aura across the ground.
"No, the gateway is ahead. Prepare yourself." Instructed a deep and raspy inhuman voice.
"You should be the one worrying, I have shirked any thought that might incriminate me."
Tarrus replied with pride.
The being raised a sharp fingered hand to it's head and smoothed the ripples that gave the illusion of hair.
"Once when I lived like you, I had such an attitude. Belief that I had no prejudice or hostile intent. I burned at the stake for that arrogance. And now I am forced to live in this form for six-thousand nine-hundred and thirty-three years longer before paradise opens to me."
"True Drusus, you are stuck in the land between limbo and life," Tarrus smirked,"but I intend to free you one day much sooner than the seven millenniums that you must wait. Which is why you will stay at my side throughout my time in this world."
"Until your tomb is closed and as your family creed says; "the graveyard shall narrate your story till the end times", I recognize you as my master."
With that out of the way, Tarrus went back to chat with the spirits once more. But sadly they had all disappeared. Meaning the only conversation would be Drusus, and he only cared to recount the same ten stories of his past life.
"That is the entrance to Pendragon." Drusus pointed, as Stonehenge came into view.
"I see, then let us stay clear of the others. I've heard less than favorable stories about those who mistake the gate for another."
Tarrus looked over the ancient obelisks with interest before being urged through the portal.
The light enveloping him was intrusive. But it seemed they found nothing, as he was permitted though with fair haste.
As the temporary blindness subsided, he was greeted with the extravagant inside of Pendragon. Above and all around was a monumental depiction of a battle between the Angels and Demons.
Tarrus was pulled from his staring by the greeting of a young woman.
"Yes, that is me."
He could see something off about this person, a shadow magician of sorts he assumed.
"A couple students just left for your class. They shouldn't be too far along if you want to catch up with them. They'll be hard to miss."
"Thank you warden." He bowed, taking off down the hall, while Drusus maintained himself as a wisp and drifted above his master.
"Die er nackron, da Meter?" He muttered to himself in the language of Faeries, "this is interesting, isn't it master?"