[Johan Riketz]

Sacred Stranger Welcome...

There was no point in questioning the fact or trying to push the envelope too far.......prying within his own wretched existence to reveal his lies. He believed himself to be foolish in this way and had learned much over the last few cycles. The Origins of Vysstichi Nature. By Aeternia, it explained why he lived in lonliness, deprived of his relatives and relieved of any hope of finding a friendly ally.

The Faceless One?

Things were only the way they had to be and though he found no general reprieve in what people called fact, he held no illusions in the clutches of a firm realization, pessimism was the only truth he could rely on. Faith gave him nothing short of utter-despair, rotten to the core. His heart had been wrenched from him in the silence of his answers, a fluid capacity of thoughts falling short on the shadow of a doubt and fine-tuned to calculate only possibility. Johan wasn't evil at all, but instead......he derived his infallible possibilities to determine his next motive, it was only logical.

The gift.....

Indifferent, if only for a moment, Johan wanted to be his own person......and if anything, the Vysstichi-outcast was a genuine individual.

He gave his all to these sessions alone, where his blade cut the air about him with unforetold precision, but even with a will as strong as steel, dissapearing wounds never revealed the pain he felt continually. The pain of being abandoned, the pain of common-men and their massochistic nature, the pains of doubt and guilt......

.....or the curse.

No such questions stressed across his marred soul as did those which appeared the least obvious. Peace was unattainable and had never quite intertwined itself into his own path of fate. Destruction and heartache were two words common to The Faceless One, another reason he declared himself atheistic in nature, throwing stones openly at his creator, having damned Johan......morphing that which could have possibly been pure into something beyond reckoning. He was becoming a.......monster? Yes, perhaps......his father could not escape that nature which was foul enough, but it hoarded him as well and Johan remained ensnared in vice-like throes of merciless atheistic illusions and paranoia of selfish individualism.

The answer.....

Fate leads his hands, destiny guides his movements, wisdom justifies murder, and rationale........well, that just served to keep him sane. Gauntlet laced tightly over his right-arm, he lead the blade through several difficult routines, his fine locks of mythril silver-hair flowing tumultuously on the chill wind about his back and waist. His shoulders were still gentle-slopes despite hours of endless training and endurance exercise and the Vysstichi never seemed to muscle-out much at all. He wasn't exactly puny, but wasn't huge either. Settling back for a moment of rest, he found solace in no thoughts, only closing his eyes briefly as he came upon his knees, dropping the blade on the lush greenery, mud lacing his obsidian-skin in several small splotches. Light rain took to the area around him, goose-bumps forming as he shivered, fingers digging into the earth beneath, his mind meandering as he caught his breath, and he turned his face to the skies then.

........lonliness was the only solution in plain sight now.