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01-21-2015, 11:19 AM
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AND YOU DON'T WANT TO BE HERE IN THE FUTURE, SO YOU SAY THE PRESENT'S JUST A PLEASANT INTERRUPTION TO THE PAST. | The evening sun sank in the west, painting the desert sky in brilliant hues of red and orange and purple. From the north came a small, glowing form - though glowing may have been too strong a word. From within the fledgling prince's bodice there came a gentle flickering, the slightest of glimmers: the results of his heritage, his twice-royal roots steeped in the Sun's everlasting light. When the sun struck him just so, the glare from within intensified, but only momentarily. It was almost a beacon, a flaring signal from within the stone-colored colt to his family that he had finally - finally - returned from his winter months spent in solitude, in a pursuit of heroic desire to reunite that which they had lost: Mother. When she had left, it had been on some mission or other regarding the Academy. Normally he might have accompanied her, having found a great deal to interest him in the metaphorical pages of her book; but on that day, her last day, he had been left unceremoniously behind. Rather than training, as she had requested - for to his youthful mind, the need for fighting skills was still a rather abstract concept - he had spent his day moseying around the oasis, pouting about Mother's rejection of his company and pointedly avoiding that of others. When night fell, he searched for Mother, scouring the desert sands from the safety of the greenery. She did not return. He was uneasy. Days passed. Father did not seem overly concerned, but the young prince had been restless. What if something terrible had befallen her, somewhere far beyond their borders, out of the reach of their patrols? What if she was dead or dying? He was angry - looking back, he remembered that vividly. Why had Father not sent someone to look for her? Even worse - why had he not gone himself? Did he not owe her that? As young as he was, the prince knew love. He saw it in Mother's eyes when she looked at her sons, though that was a different kind of love than what she shared with Father. To his young and philosophical mind, reconciling this discrepancy left him scratching his head. Love was love - wasn't it? Mother loved him, and he knew that if he were the one missing, she would be doing everything possible to find him. He suspected that if Father went missing, Mother would (at the very least) have sent patrols to look for him. But to the prince's knowledge, no such precautions had been taken to find Mother and ensure her safety. Why? Didn't Father love her? Would Father even care if his son were to disappear into thin air? And so he did. He had wanted to find Mother, that was true - but one could also argue that his departure was a cry for attention. Would Father miss him? Would he care, or was he so consumed with Rhoa (who had, admittedly, taken more after his father's heart of late than his mother's) that he would simply shake that great head of his in disappointment and carry on? Besides - by then it had been a week and Mother had yet to return. She needed someone to find her, and if no one else was going to volunteer, then the princeling would be happy to oblige. But over the following weeks, he had found no trace of the missing Sultana. He searched, careful to track his progress with the Sun. Mother had taught him how to read the skies, had told him of the lands lying beyond the borders of the Dragon's Throat. One day, she had told him, one day I will take you there. And yet, he had gone alone and afraid, wondering what he might find in the darkness-inhabited Wilds that Mother had warned him of. Why, oh why, had she gone alone? And so he returned to his home, trekking south with nothing to show for his little adventure. @[Gaucho] "Talk talk talk." |
please do not feel pressured into mirroring the length of any of my posts
I write what I feel at the time
and hope everyone else does the same c:
