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| − | '''Roleplay from Sorsha McDowell'''
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| − | Sorsha couldn’t even recall how long she had been in Sint now. All she knew was that everything was different and she tried to fit in, but yet no matter how hard her attempt she just gave up in the end and surrounded herself with silence. It just hurt to live…it hurt to breathe.
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| − | Part of her was glad she no longer had responsibilities like before; a large weight had been lifted from her shoulders. There were no constant eyes watching her every move, reporting them. The mask she wore was long gone, no part to play, she could just be herself and find comfort in her pain, at least the pain reminded her she was still alive, while her fiancé was not. How she longed for death to find him again… but Altair needed her.
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| − | She looked over to her son, and with all of her strength gave him a smile and he mirrored it. He was still very small, but growing quickly. His dark hair was the exact color of his father’s… but his eyes… his eyes were hers. Blue eyes, adorned with eerie flecks of violet.
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| − | She knew Rathan had never been the embodiment of peace and love, he had made enemies and in the end paid the price, and so had she… If only they could have seen, if they could have understood that once the hostility and defensiveness was removed, he was a gentle creature.
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| − | Lying on the ground beside Altair, she gave no attention to the servants around her who seemed shocked by her behavior and started to play with him. Talking to him, even though he couldn’t talk but he was avidly interested in his mother and seemed to take everything in like precious oxygen. “One day, you will be a great warrior” she whispered, “but first,” she said as she picked him up and he giggled, she echoed it with one of her own and set him on her hip. “I’ll teach you how to use your wits and to be careful; there will be enemies no matter where you look especially within the ones you love most,” his eyes continuously watched her and she took his small hand in his. When she did, she noticed a birthmark on the back, one that had not been there the day before. Turning his small hand in hers she then looked to the rest of his body, but there was nothing else. She could hardly breathe; the mark was in the shape of a star. Her eyes filled with tears and she swallowed. She had always watched the stars, finding comfort in them, knowing night after night they would always be there, like guardians watching over her. Rathan had once named them for her, a tender moment she would never forget. From then on, she had known, no matter where she was Rathan would look up and they could be together.
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| − | Strange things had begun to her since the day of his birth, which marked the day of Rathan’s execution. It was as if, his spirit was following them.
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| − | Kneeling before him, she kissed his brow. “You are terribly special little one,” she held him again and took in the scent of his skin, his hair. “Your father, and his legacy live within you… Like he was before you… you are my star.”
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