Elysium Nights (WIP)

CHAPTER TWO - THE MEDJAY AND THE MONK

Many centuries ago, in a land untouched by time, a Monk and a Medjay found themselves engaged in a fierce debate on matters of God, chance and fate during their endless journey across the enigmatic Northern Prairies.

The Monk served as a highly revered emissary of the church, clad in a flowing, earth-toned brown robe intricately secured around his waist by a lengthy string of intricately crafted rosary beads. His caramel-hued skin contrasted with the shaven expanse of his head, a symbol of the profound commitment he had made to a life steeped in love and unwavering devotion to the religious scriptures.

Despite his benevolent nature, the Monk often found himself immersed in the intricate and sometimes perplexing philosophical discourses characteristic of those devoted to the ecclesiastic calling. Navigating the delicate balance between his compassionate disposition and the profound contemplations inherent to men of the cloth, he grappled with the complexities of the profound discussions, including moments where he wrestled with doubts and struggled with his own faith. The Monks compassionate spirit coexisted with the challenging intellectual terrain he traversed, creating a dynamic interplay between his kind-hearted demeanour and the deep reflections that were an integral part of his religious commitment.

In the ancient days when the Medjay were esteemed as valiant protectors of the innocent, a unique collaboration unfolded as the church commissioned a Medjay to serve as a vigilant guardian for the Monk on his sacred pilgrimage across the boundless northern prairies. The chosen Medjay cut an imposing figure, his frame towering and encased in the distinctive emerald-green cloak that had become the hallmark of the nation's protectors.

His blonde hair, a striking contrast to the verdant fabric, cascaded down his back in meticulous braided strands. Twin thick braids mirrored this pattern in his equally vibrant beard, extending down to the middle of his chest. The air crackled with an energy as potent as the colours that adorned him.

The Medjay, clad in protective leather body armour, carried not just the weight of his armour but also the solemnity of leaving his wife and unborn child behind before venturing forth. A sword, gracefully secured at his hip, stood as a testament to his unwavering commitment to defence. A golden dagger, discreetly holstered at his ankle, shimmering as an understated emblem of both his skill and readiness.

In the inaugural week of their journey, an air of quiet settled between the two men, rendering their interactions sparse and conversations minimal, often not surpassing a handful of words exchanged daily. The routine persisted until the approaching end of the first month, a period marked by a morning of profound significance. Following a night veiled in relentless rainfall, the subsequent sunrise transformed the sky into a canvas ablaze with vivid reds, opulent oranges, and soft yellows – nature's own flamboyant performance, reminiscent of a candle flame delicately igniting a campfire.

On this particular morning, the Monk stirred from a restless slumber and, captivated by the celestial display, took his seat to absorb the spectacle. The colours danced across the horizon, casting a warm glow on the landscape, and as the hues painted the heavens, the Monk found himself immersed in contemplation – pondering the intricate tapestry of existence and the myriad complexities that defined it.

It was in the midst of this reflective solitude that the Medjay, sensing the transformative energy of the morning, approached the monk. The rhythmic crunch of footsteps on the damp earth marked his approach as he ventured closer, perhaps drawn by the shared awe, inspired by the breathless sunrise. The convergence of their worlds, under the canopy of the sky set ablaze, signalled the potential for a profound connection between the Monk and the Medjay, sparked by the magic woven into the very fabric of that memorable morning.