The Sun Worshiper
The trees stood firm and strong as the wind blew its way to the city. Falling leaves danced and swayed like ballerinas pirouetting and jumping in the air. Every twirl and flip was a perfect blur of motion. Every moment was randomly flowing in perfect synchronization.
But perfect as it was, I saw the contrast in the beauty of the scenery. I saw a comparison. A personification of myself to these trees and leaves.
As I stood on this mountain top, I closed my eyes and ponder.
Will I be a leaf? A leaf that is freely falling. Will I be swaying accordingly to how fate guides me? Will I dance to the choreography of the wind? Free yet not free.
Or will I be one of these trees? A tree that is growing strong and firm, rooted and blossoming, yet hidden. Will I stand against fate? What is strength when you're hiding? Will I be just a tree or will I be 'The Tree'.
Will I do what fate says?
Fate says, it's time for me to go. Fate says, it's time for me to show. Fate says, I have to.
I am a werewolf. I'm the last of my kin; the last of the Sun Worshiper. I pray to the Sun and the Sun god alone. He alone knows and draws my fate.
I am Helga.
May the Sun beams and light my path.
