Micah Talith
Draith Shamalain
O L D M O R O S S T E R R I T O R I E S
E X O C R O N
Moross Crusade. The Shamalain Talith progeny were well aware of what that meant. What it stood for. The stories their father, mother, aunt, and uncle would reveal a history and people rich in tradition and in devotion of their Gods.
The only thing more surreal than that is to realize that three out of those four were venerated as avatars of the Moross Pantheon.
"Too weird," Micah said more to himself than to his sisters, the Rising Tide approaching the former capital of what once was Moross Crusade territories. He sat alongside a large viewport, juggling an apple from hand to hand with idle curiosity.
The rising sun would rise in a warm dawn, rays of saffron, coral, and indigo illuminating the observation deck he was in. Bright orange eyes shone a more vibrant hue at the sunlight's glow. One more year had narrowed Micah's face similar to that of his fathers, leaving the child he was in the past.
Training had intensified with his uncle and father. The days became weeks, then months, and Micah’s body had grown toward the man he might one day become, if he lived long enough. A few more inches in height along with a leaner physique. His hair was still a mop of tussled hair, but the blonde had darkened into a darker brown. He had already outgrown three sets of armor, and the seams on the newest were stretching at the shoulders.
They were all changing. They were growing up; and it was only the beginning.
[member="Aela Talith"] [member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Maleah Talith"]