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09-14-2015, 03:19 PM
Torleik
Another day, another interloping rift god, another instance in which Ophelia was saved from pain or possible death by his actions. Torleik wondered if she even noticed. Face burned, body still aching from the goddamn boil sickness he'd caught, the Bloodskald slowly returned home. He needed a healer; perhaps then he would find his cousin and speak to him, as it seemed Ulrik hadn't stuck around like Torleik had hoped. That irritated him. Could no one just fucking do what he asked of them?
Did he ask too much? The king didn't think so. With every step his anger inside solidified into something sharp and dangerous, like molten metal poured into the cast of a dangerous weapon. He was tired, he was hurting, and he was done. Ophelia had tried to attack a goddess of all the damn fool things she could've chosen to do simply because, he surmised, she had seen another god bleed and die not long ago. This seemed to give the residents of Helovia a jolt of realization - gods could die.
Yes. Possibly. But all the morons seemed to be forgetting that the gods they were killing were being fought BY ANOTHER GOD and not just pathetic mortals with magic that could be snatched from them at any time. The demon bear that came through the rift would have destroyed them all if the God of the Spark hadn't been present. The rift wolf would have devoured everyone present if not for the Moon Goddess. Was everyone so foolish? Was Phi? Torleik didn't want to think so but it played over and over in his head, her grave error in trying to somehow avenge the deaths of seasons ago.
'!! Ulrik!' Irelyn informed him urgently, and the Bloodskald wondered if his cousin, stupid in his own ways as he could be, had simply assumed they would talk in Torleik's new home. It had worked, hadn't it? He couldn't exactly consider it stupid. Dumb luck, maybe, but perhaps Ulrik knew Torleik better than he knew himself. Vial of wolf's blood spacking against his muscular chest softly with every step, the king drew up as close to his cousin as he dared. As far as he knew Ulrik was unaffected by the boils; he didn't want to infect his cousin.
"I intended to talk to you directly after battle; you didn't have to come all the way here to speak with me. But," he said, drawing in a deep breath, "as you are here, I invite you inside my home. You are welcome within these borders." The Bloodskald paused, brows quirked above curious eyes. "Have you the news that I am king of this place? I haven't seen you in a long while, cousin. I meant to return to the Basin, let them know of my departure, why I left..." he trailed, aware he'd never managed the trip. Other than for Ulrik, why should he have bothered? He despised Deimos and Ophelia had almost immediately abdicated her position to come be in the World's Edge with him.
The memory made him smile, thinking back to a time, not long ago, when things had felt better. Now everything was shit and he didn't see a clear, discernible end. Ulrik was here now, though, and it was good to see his family. The king would try to focus on that positive.
![[Image: 531c0b471919e]](http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/531c0b471919e)
No man is an island.
Pixel by: Tamme :D
Pixel by: Tamme :D
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