Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-28358106-20160714040922/@comment-28358106-20160718212015

"No, it is not a lie!" She says, stepping forward. "Listen to me!"

She composes herself. "The fact that you were chosen is not diminished by the HOW, Sir Praetor.  The Goddess chose you for who you were, for your sacrifice.  For your bravery.  But she was dying.  She could not bring you here herself.  That is why she struck the bargain."

She opens a desk drawer and pulls out a stack of papers and tosses them on the desk. They are drawings.

Tanks. Airplanes. Artillery. And last, on top, a Kalashnikov.

She points to it. "In the conflict you were pulled from, these were the weapons your enemies used.  Each is capable of throwing projectiles, small ones, every one lethal.  They hold up to thirty of them.  The soldier that attacked you had seventeen left in his weapon."

She points to his body in the respective places. "Four were meant to hit you.  One in your leg.  One in your shoulder.  One in your chest."

And then she points to his head.

"But he was missing a projectile.  He was supposed to have eighteen.  Ibrahim was shown that path of the dark planes that lead to death; she showed him what end you were to have.  He was powerful then.  He traveled there.  He found the weapon."

She reaches into the drawer one more time. She places a single rifle round on the desk.

There is a long silence. "The Goddess saved you.  But Ibrahim helped the Goddess to save you when she could not herself.  She knew she was to die, Praetor, But Ibrahim healed her, and you, by changing the one singular thread of fate that allowed her to place what was left of herself into you.  She exists within you, within you, and there she yet lives on.  She is alive, and there she must remain."

She looks at him hard. "He wanted you here because you can do what he cannot.  He did not tell you because to do so would have been to alert the shadows that now fall upon us.  He will falter, and fail, and lose all, and he knows.  The Goddess did not choose him.  She chose you."

She turns back to face the window. "Do what you will with this information.  But know this: only Ibrahim can tell you more."

She looks up. In the distance, the clouds hang over the Iverian peak, black and swirling.

Her eyes narrow.