[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/260222/bcf6f4b7.png[/img][/center][hr] [color=gray][i]Small waves lap up against leather boots, and soaked clothes hang on the man like weights. His collar feels more constricting than usual, gripping his throat like a noose. The water is frigid, chilling into his very bones. The river is murky, and as the man takes his first step into it, it feels more resistant to his advance. He doesn't feel wet. He sees, on the other side of the river, a boat slightly run aground the shallow shore. He sees men in armor approaching the boat, rifles in hand. He takes another step, and he feels something grabbing his leg. The water is too opaque to see anything. The man resists the pull, and tries to take another step. Another hand grips his other leg, and begins to pull him down. More grasping fingers clutch his wrists, his arms, his coat. The man watches in horror as the armored men board the boat. He sees others behind him on the shore, all faceless and wearing the standard Templar armor. Just before he is pulled beneath the waves, he hears a gunshot.[/i][/color] Edmund awoke with a start, his eyes struggling to adjust to the dim streams of light that filtered in through the dark curtains of his room. His left hand had quickly found the handle of his revolver on his nightstand, instinct taking hold as his elevated heart rate struggled to stabilize. After a few labored breaths, he set the firearm back down and swung himself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed. He looked briefly at the guitar resting in its stand only a few feet away, gently reaching out towards it. He lifted it into his lap, testing the strings before plucking out a few slow chords. He hummed a tune under his breath as he strummed quietly in his chamber. ‘Rest heals the body, music heals the soul,’ some noted review of an operetta of Augustus Morello mused several centuries ago. The simple notes Edmund strummed were far from ordained art, but they helped steady his spirit nonetheless. When he was finished, he set the instrument back in its place. The morning was otherwise regimented. A brief jog where Edmund could monitor the grounds, a morning check in with Maya’s security detail, and another day spent in his ward’s shadow with a perpetual stoney expression he wore as part of his uniform. For all her faults, the Scion of Water had a knack for business and dealings. He remained nearby as she answered emails and went about shilling lavish products. He almost felt relieved by the time he climbed after her into the limousine. The relaxation was short-lived. Camera flashes, loud shouts and cheers… public spectacles always put the Templar on edge. He had already opted to channel the armor with its helmet on, opting to avoid Maya’s teasing over some misconstrued expression he always flashed when dealing with the paparazzi. He stood within an arm’s length of Maya as she walked the runway, hands delicately grasped behind his back. It was important to avoid appearing too aggressive at functions like these, lest he receive another lecture from Elijah. He nodded thoughtfully at Maya’s prepared answer. If it came from a more devout scion, Edmund might have almost believed her. When she slowed down next to him, he already had a sneaking suspicion of what it was she wanted. [color=dodgerblue]“Hang back and get a good shot of me going through the doors,”[/color] she whispered, tapping his forearm. [color=dodgerblue]“It’ll be perfect to close off my Year in Review.”[/color] Edmund took Maya’s phone, letting out a soft breath and tapping the crystal at the core of the chestplate. The helmet retracted, revealing carefully combed hair and less stubble than usual. He unlocked the phone, assuming the position as he knelt down to get a proper angle. He adjusted the camera settings, accounting for the lighting and color balance, until he was satisfied with the preview. He snapped a few pictures, changing the angle and position of the phone ever so slightly to provide options. Years of martial training culminated in a career as Maya’s amateur photographer. The goddess loved to test his patience. He rose back to his feet and quickly followed his Scion into the Cathedral, offering her phone back as the helmet was summoned to hide a small smile.