I wish mother was here. Or Ivezho. I've tried to block them from my thoughts, tell myself that I am the orphan son of a distant Father, but I can't seem to. I am no orphan. Father is here, as much as I almost wish he weren't. Then perhaps I would have a legitimate claim to the angst that I feel swelling inside of me at all times.
Am I simply a selfish child? Am I naively allowing myself to be sucked into the blackness of youthful hate for the world? I don't know. Maybe I am, but what of it? It isn't easy being a prince. My sister is gone, my twin is gone, and my mother is gone.
All I have is my Father but ... But what does that even mean? He is a distant figure, appearing to have more time for everyone else than he does for me. Yet I am still here. I've come, as is my duty. When is it his turn, to feel the pull of obligation and responsibility so strongly that he cares for me ?
I moved near him, if only so that he knows that I am here. I don't want him to think that I haven't come when I have, and I know he would approve of me standing nearer to the front of our family, than lost at the back. I have grown, I am already taller now than I was last meeting, and I do not look quite so gangly. I am growing long and lean, the perfect combination of he and mother, coated in a soft gray. My wings burn with heatless embers, although I keep them tucked to my sides, holding the light in against my flanks.
"Father." I mumble softly, respectfully. If there is one thing I will not do, it's show disrespect to him in front of our family. I don't know why appearances mean so much to me, but somehow they do. Even if my life is falling apart, I will appear the strong prince that I'm sure Father expects me to be.
Even if it's breaking me inside.
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[O] All Roads Lead to Rome [Herd Meeting]
