Xerxion knelt before the altar, the joints of his greaves digging painfully into his knees. He hardly noticed as he sat back onto his feet, and gazed up at the carved figure enshrouded in darkness before him. He laid aside his mace and bowed touching his hands and face to the ground. Sitting back again he felt the pitch air of the shrine surround and envelop him, comforting him in its embrace.

His thoughts drifted over the past few weeks, each day becoming more slothful, feeling more burdened. 'Weariness... numbing weariness,' he thought to himself as he breathed a slow, ragged sigh. Sometimes, for the briefest of moments, he envied the race of men, when the weight of the years grew too great on their shoulders, they simply died, their physical form exhausted. He had lost count of his own age, a year, a day, an hour, all such things had lost meaning long ago. He had felt this weariness before, a passing thing though it was but never had it been so great.

Suddenly a voice whispered in his mind, sliding through his thoughts bumping them aside, 'You are becoming weakkk...' the last word drawn out slowly, gratingly. Xerxion was startled, briefly however, as he recognized the voice and felt a knot start to form in his stomach, part from anger and part from nerves. He thought he had banished -that- voice.

'I care not to hear your words tonight, begone, ' he said aloud knowing it was pointless. The voice grated again, quiet yet as harsh as metal on metal, 'You have let the years pile upon youuu... Wandering, wandering'. Xerxion sighed and responded, the anger building in his voice, 'I told you, leave... me... be...' The voice continued, oblivious to his words, 'And now you serve in Necrucifer's kingdom... A slave yet again, only now you are a -ranking- slave, yes?' It hissed and gurgled, what might be construed as laughing.

Quite perturbed now, Xerxion shouted, 'Quiet!' He tried to ignore the voice as he settled back down to meditate while it continued to "laugh" to itself. 'Angry, yes? It is long since you went hunting, and you know it. Can you even remember the last time you felt His Fire? ' The red haze before his eyes... The burning in his veins... It had been a long time. 'Yess, quite long enough... This is why you tire, you have let His fire die in you... '

At that he paused while the voice's sickening laugh filled his mind, and finally he grinned madly and laughed in his own turn. 'Yes, ' he said slowly, 'quite long enough. '