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09-29-2015, 01:53 PM
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Rikyn
The serenity of the world around us is a cruel mockery of the bewildering swiftness of my thoughts and emotions as the realization that my sister, the small, emaciated bit of nothing mother and I had found abandoned in a meadow, was the child of a God. Her question meets my ears with the sound of hooves departing, as others leave the gathering disappointed or overwhelmed with joy that there would be no violence as there had been in the other lands. I find that I care very little about either of these things in this moment, focusing instead on a relationship that I had come home to find very, very changed. Surely it had changed everything. The way Erebos had told the tale, she had simply left – not a word to him. The coldness of that, to leave and be within reach, to force a friend, a brother as she called him, to find her… It read quite a lot to me, really, that as soon as she had found her father, she had lost any need for us at all. And, yet, there is something in her expression that is earnest and truthful, that makes a ball of something well up in my throat which tightens and flexes, which tries to clear all in a long moment of pondering. "I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye," I answer, the honesty of the apology gleaming brightly in my eyes before it hardens under the weight of anger, admonishment – I may not have been there to be a brother then, but I am now, "but it would have been hard to, considering I was invisible, and I didn’t have much time to consider farewells… and besides all that, it didn’t give you a right to abandon Erebos like you did!" My brows are knitted down over sparkling gold eyes, unafraid even as my mind repeats he’s my dad (the image of the God himself framing her with his pale wing), even as I recall her fire breaking apart the crystals of the Bear like they were glass.  |
@Aithniel @Erebos
