Spiritfire stood stoic, motioned to his left, a signal for others to come. Zohara scanned the area and saw an average build black man, low hair cut with brown eyes and a long black bread. He bore a long white and black shirt with slim light brown loose pants. He had some muscle definition, not overly big but well in shape as he walks the ground move but softly, like some stepping into the water, a visual of ground ripples. It was terrific and so unbelievable that Zohara kept glaring at his feet, awaiting a logical conclusion to what she saw. He spoke with a kind, manly voice, great power, “It is of good sight to meet you, Zohara; my name is Kamau’s Gripe.”
“Hello,” replied Zohara.
Zohara then saw a man, well it resembles one, but he was flying around the outside of the room. He appeared to be a bird with large off-colored white wings and long dark blonde hair. He came from the right through the largest window on the far side of the room. He stood well over 6ft tall, and as he walked, his wings grew smaller until she could not see them anymore. He bore a dark yellow and brown short sleeve shirt, massive arms, and baby blue eyes. His hair was to his shoulders, and he remarked at Zohara, “Hail young one and welcome, the name is Tesar.”
Zohara slanted her eyes. Are you the Nordic Angel?”
“You are wise—that is correct,” replied Tesar.
Zohara sharply turned to Spiritfire, “I knew your name was familiar. You were the one who lived during the time of the Last War. You likewise fought against the Dragocions with the hero! I remember the story from my history teacher. One of the few historical references of that time, well the few that could be taught.”
“Yes,” again replied Tesar.
“…but I could have sworn you were killed in battle.”
Excerpt from Chapter 14 of “She is to be remembered.”