Exploration and discovery were amazing, incandescent things, and the scion traveled alongside his mother, his father, for the sights, sounds, and wonder of the earth’s creation. Realms, kingdoms, and sovereignties were open bounties for him to delve and spy within; like a specious toddler, princeling crown tipping over his ears, laurels and tidings ripped and ruined in the wake of mischievous endeavors. He ambled beneath boughs, arms of shade and nettles, rambled under spring storms and embraced its zealous, feverish pitch, scrambled into the divinity, the satanic, danced and skimmed along the edges of the unknown. His childish, youthful, newborn essence craved each and every essence, notion, speck and granule of information, searching, ruminating, examining – if one nibbled upon these branches, were they satisfying? If he stepped over these rocky protrusions, did it harm their hooves? If he prodded and poked the ground with his tiny sword, infant rapier, did it maim, indent, or merely mock his efforts? What lay beyond the walls of ice, rime, and frost? Was the grass softer here, perfect for an afternoon nap? What were the dangers of the terrain, what were the virtues of its existence? Could he embody both, use, develop their potency, or was it lost to him as so many other things, untouched and infirm, beyond his reach? Were there others like them, wild, untamed, free to do as they yearned? What was conquered, devoured, triumphed over, and what lay in ruin, rubble, begging for absolution? What were vices, what were flaws, and did every world have them? His ignorance longed to flee, to be scorched and seared, enflamed and engulfed, and as he wandered about the field (heavenly, she called it, like dove songs and handmaidens painting tapestries of gods and goddesses – suddenly, he wanted to see them and know their power, their condemnation, their outreach and scales), away from his dam’s eyes, he sought to endure the clambering of children and the exotic reverie of observation, research, and investigation. He was Erebos, darkness incarnate, moving within the light of day, scalding for answers and prickling for truth.

He stared at the long, drifting loam, the stretch of grass lingering listlessly for miles and miles, begging for a lengthy gallop, a swift swallow of speed, a gale of his mighty force. He arched his brow once or twice, tilting and inclining his cranium to ensure poor, dear Huyana was occupied with something else altogether, before he became a quick, sudden engine of speed: an unholy menace across the uncharted grounds. For a few moments, it was just him and the earth; a maddening dance, a predacious claim to the empire all of its riches, a descendant of death and all of its ruins, paragon pedestals reaching for his lithe, tender frame – and then plucking his feet out from underneath him entirely. He fell into an ungraceful heap at the bottom of a knoll, limbs akimbo and stretched out in various directions, unharmed except for his youthful ego. From his vantage point, a tumble of lengthy limbs and grouchy exterior, he stared back at the offensive bank, as though it had done him a great dishonor. His features furrowed into a scathing, infernal haze, embarking and hastening for his father’s intimidation factor, and noting thereafter he’d acquired none when the mound refused to apologize for its ill behavior. A deep, loathsome sigh crackled through his lungs, like a turbulent hiss of a petulant babe, before he managed to right himself, nose wrinkled, gaze infuriated. Already a lesson had been acquired and administered rapidly, if not a hand brutally: audacity and boldness meant another sense went completely awry.

@[Adelric]