Originally written March 25, 2012.
Another night of prayer and preparation. Arialynn set her latest completed work aside, and took a moment to regain composure. She meditated, forgetting for a moment the quiet hush of the keep at the early morning hour, the sound of low torches still burning, and the lilt of birds welcoming sunrise.
Another span of hours was dedicated to work instead of sleep, and the lady knight understood the risk and toll it took on her mentally, physically. She resolved to spend the morning at rest, to regain the time that was lost.
Finally, she rose. Donning her full armor once more, she strove from the keep into the chilly morning air. Being a port, many denizens of Theramore were already awake, starting the day's routine. The lady knight politely passed through them, but drew more than one stare.
It was not abnormal for her to draw a stare or two among strangers, knights by armor and nature drew attention. But the stares were more numerous, and accompanied by resentful mutterings behind cupped hands.
As she approached her own residence, she noted that a few dock workers still eyed her from a distance. One spat as he murmured a rude remark, then went about his business.
"The Templars bring us nothing but rot," his remark was carried to her by the sea breeze. It ended in an expletive.
Arialynn lingered at her doorstep, watching the men depart with baleful looks still in their eyes.
Something was amiss in Theramore.