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11-27-2014, 02:47 PM
EREBOS His game was already faltering, tipping, sinking, submerged back into icicle granules and puffs of hot air. At first, he was simply ignored, which would dismay and swindle any youth, and then the filly glanced his way with commiserative, consoling eyes, as if he was troubled, ill, or gravely wounded. For a few seconds, the colt was baffled, stunned into silence, drawn back into himself (because were there any external flaws he’d managed to forget?), and attempted to uncover another mystery. He carried no outward injuries, nor inward prejudices (he had naught to angst or be melancholy about, after all, privileged, defiant, and subversive in play, in ventures and sojourns). At least this enigma brandished itself with a query, even if it were all the more unsettling and confusing. What did they do to you? As far as he was aware, naught had truly ever been done to him: he’d lived his life in earnest, wild exuberance, a chaotic ramble of adventures, crusades, and lessons, reality taught in sporadic bursts of excitement or capricious exploits. He’d been born in the icy Basin, shielded and guarded by his wonderful parents, by his whimsical sibling, played and paraded around with his friends, a charmed fortitude, a lively cavalcade. He’d discovered magical capabilities, floated across waves and surf like King Neptune of the seven seas, desired and coveted for more, for the strange crackles simmering just below his skin, untapped, untouched, future, foretold exploitations. He’d seen his friend’s companion born, nestled and bonded, sought his own through patience and diligence. Sometimes he wandered on his own, gasped at inky caverns, solved puzzles in attempts to win a prize, dreamed, yearned, craved bits and pieces of power, or fashioned lies to see if the victims would be snared; to his disappointment, this one hadn’t even been snagged. Instead of sighing or pouting, indignation was not suitable for a prince’s features (no matter how devilish, impish, or embedded into childhood), he tilted his head, felt the air whip around the length of his rapier, and attempted to rectify the perplexing circumstances. “What do you mean?” |
