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09-15-2012, 05:28 PM
He never stops talking. The incessant chatter would drive me mad were I not already such a thing. I compel you to follow me further even when your natural inclination is to turn to the stranger in response. I tug at the chains surrounding you and hiss your name into the silence, forcing you to follow. As he continues to speak to no one in particular, I continue to sift through bodies and stones in search of one in particular, but the search is fruitless. The stranger has no intention of helping, it seems, which normally I would prefer. This time, however, I wonder if he might be of some use. He appears to be a native of this herdland, I can see it in the way that he walks. Surely he would know the pattern of the earth and shadow at the base of this cliff better than I? But no, he stands still, stating the obvious. My metal seeps up from cracks in the earth and oozes towards the stallion silently and stealthily, bubbling with the heat of the seer's fire that runs within it. As my anger rises so does the temperature of the lead- so quickens the pace at which it runs towards the unicorn. I do not give him the satisfaction of an answer. Yes, I am dead-what a clever observation. Of course I craft, is it not clear? Certainly I was not born into the trade- unlike the fool before him, I do not adorn myself with trinkets and pointless artifacts. As for my need for a corpse, well... I suppose he has no way of knowing that one. "I seek the bones of the fallen: Irc," I spit out my reply and the metal begins to hiss and leap from its place mere paces away from the stranger. You cannot help but turn at the sound- you know it too well, you fear it. The stinging bite of metal and the heat of the seers fire has haunted you your every waking hour, how could you ignore it now? But you regret the action instantly, for once your head faces anywhere but the piles of rocks around us, the chains tighten their grip. You cry out in pain this time- I have worn you too thin, and pulled too tightly on the chains wrapping your flank. You will feel the bruising on your ribs for days, and the pain will haunt you just as I. I cannot fathom the pain, having not felt such a thing for many seasons, having never remembered it. The only pain I feel is of the heart, and that, that... that is all your fault. In some twisted way I consider this my revenge for your love; for my own. There is no such thing as fairness in this world, why should I make you think there is? Dwelling on the thought brings me only pain and hatred, and so I turn back to the unicorn, hoping he might dull some of the emotion. The metal at his feet roils and tosses up, bearing its head like a snake before striking down at the earth around the stranger's hooves and threatening to seal him there. He will have to move quickly to evade it, I think with a smug grin of satisfaction. Let him feel the burn of the metal on his flesh, let him feel trapped as it hold him tight to the earth. "You wouldn't happen to know how he met his end," I begin threateningly, my voice a mere whisper, the vision of bones and rotting flesh appearing faintly beneath a healthy coat, "would you?" |
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please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
