V A R A T H
We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell.

An island in the sky.

Interesting. Intriguing enough for him to investigate.

Varath mostly kept to himself and his thoughts, even in the Basin. The recent power shift had left him highly suspicious of where anyone's loyalty actually lay - that's what happened when you put a mudblood on the throne. Ophelia's dragon was a shrieking testament to her filthy bloodline, a howling reminder of his and he couldn't fucking stand it. If they knew she was unworthy, they could put two and two together and discover so was he.

After all, Paladin's offspring weren't hard to spot.

His precious sister was co-lead of the Basin now, after having her fun causing mayhem and hell out and about in the world with her favorite Ktulu. And Vadim? Where the fuck was he? Run off somewhere. Varath's scarred muzzle wrinkled in disgust. Was he the only one proud of this vicious blade protruding from his head? The only one committed to ensuring those so blessed were not looked down upon by the common equids and the mutant pegasi? Paladin had been valiant, once, and lived up to his name. He'd been a strong, bold, unshakable warrior. Then he'd grown a conscience and gone soft, spitting out a brood of vipers and expecting them to be gentle as doves.

Fucking fool.

Ophelia had become a mockery of the innocent mare she portrayed; Ktulu was just as violent as her sire; Vadim was practically mute and without conviction and he? He was the only one of them (so far as his mind knew, at least, but pride would not let that thought dally long) that had gone back to his roots to find himself, braved Dorngarrow and their hellspawn grandsire and come out the better for it.

Let his white whore sister, the Time God's concubine, ensnare their Basin General. He would rue the day he fell so far as to find love in an empty vessel. Let Ktulu play war off somewhere else, no stranger to being a den of sin for a god herself. Vadim, for his failings, could at least still be rescued, the snow-blotched male mused. Perhaps. For all he knew, his twin could have gone as soft-minded as the rest of them. Such machinations ruminated inside his dark skull as he ascended on the cloud designed to ferry beasts to and from the island; beasts without fucking feathered horrors sprouting from their shoulders at least.

It was darker on the ground, but the moon loomed larger and larger in the sky as the island did the same, and by the time Varath had reached the top, the starlight and pale-faced disk offered a workable light by which to explore. Nighttime was like and old and well-worn coat to the young stallion, a cover he'd slipped over his shoulders many times in his waking hours. He felt comfortable here, like this, shrouded in half-lit moonbeams and hazy, opaque shadows.

But comfort was not to remain. As his solid hooves, a quietly trampled nod to his sullied genetics, stepped on to the grasses of this place, a figure so long-ago seen he was almost but a memory appeared in front of him.

Father.

No.

Paladin.

All the hate inside that constantly simmered below the surface, for others, for himself, for his filthy, wretched, diluted blood, frothed over like a rabid animal and his dual-toned eyes narrowed to slits. This bastard.

This weakling.

He was the reason for it all. Better Paladin had never sired him with that lesser woman, better the Valiant had died during one of his crusades -

because now?

Now he would pay in blood, by blood, for blood.

No love remained in his heart for his absent and frail paternal figure. "You look old, father! Old and weak" he spat, venom dripping from his words. If he had his way, those would be the last Paladin ever heard. The world was hazy as the rage inside fueled Varath forward, legs slamming like straining pistons into the grass and driving him in a straight path towards the elder, horn pointed straight for his sire's chest.

He would skewer Paladin's heart, destroy the thing that had made him weak and then maybe, just maybe he would be strong.


@[Paladin]

WC: (712) | (1/3) | Summary: Varath, in a rage, charges headlong at his father and attempts to stab Paladin in the chest/heart with his horn.

OOC: I'll try to do this justice with all the feelings and I apologize now if it's not as good as you hoped. I'll do my best, and thank you for letting me be a part of this with you. <3


"talk."