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09-29-2015, 05:48 PM
A finale hung in the air, harsh and brittle. He waited for so many things to snap, to break apart, to be whisked away out into the open, latent air, where everything else was listless and lethargic. The little scion felt particles of anger grate against his soul, frustrations tear along the inflation of his lungs, simmer and boil below the schism of his exuberant, wily essence; fraying the ends of his kindness, his patience. Aithniel was a daughter of a god – an untouchable, intangible artifact, like an arcane beauty he’d never thought would be so out of reach (and a part of him wanted to overflow, erupt in a series of echoing barbs and ruthless words). She’d billow past them before too long, reach for the stars and find them along her wings, forget the two boys she once knew. What were they, in the grand scheme of the divine, in the overthrow of empires, in the reigning wars of kingdoms and reveries? Nothing? Passing spirits on the horizon? Meant to become one of the many sheep, infidels, and cretins? She wouldn’t recollect them in a few years: passing by them on a shimmer of constellations and laughing at their sad, wicked mortality. She wouldn’t remember their names as she sauntered beneath her sire’s triumphant inferno. She wouldn’t know them from all the saints and sinners driven to each battle, to each crusade, and she wouldn’t mourn their loss when they managed to find their graves. She’d always be their long lost, unattainable ally, and they’d be the pebbles lodged in her hoof. He’d always wished, always dreamed, always yearned for greater things, but to see another capable of sauntering far beyond what he could ever have was a vexing, depressing seam – stitches unraveling, one by one, thread by thread, searing to a bout of jealousy, to a broil, a brew, of envy. It was ugly, it was seething, it was raw and real, and he hated himself for thinking that way, for being an impudent, spoiled brat, for not being able to combat the darker stretches of thoughts, of sentiments, gleaming amongst his skull. Was it because she had something he wanted: potency, prowess, potential, without a second thought? Or was it because while he wandered, while he strayed, while he searched for them, she grew stronger, she found others, and no longer cared for the little beasts from the ice and wind? Who pushed who away? He said naught for a long while, listening to the throng and din of their arguments, allowing it to build while he festered, while he withered, while his breath grew harsh and belligerent, bold and cruel. Everything hurt and his eyes couldn’t blink back the layers of tears, of brine, of quiet, undying loyalty; too shattered, too tired, too saddened by the dense, foreboding shroud of loss – again and again, a constant cycle. Even Orsino did nothing: uttered not one single grumble, not one protest, not one pressing hiss. Erebos gathered what little strength, what little puissance he had, and etched it through their malicious spouts, ensnared, unraveled, the bits and fragments that stung the most. Abandon? He is a prince! - and he knew that meant nothing too – princes were hurt, princes bled, princes cared for their friends, princes wished they could become something, anything, for the ones they cherished. Princes lost all the time. Sometimes, princes were inept, ineffective, and forgotten. Did he mean nothing to them at all? Was that why they fled without breathing a word? Was that why they ran away, split onto different paths, and never told him a thing? Because he’d be fine? Because it wouldn’t matter to him? Because he wouldn’t be worth fretting about? His voice, calm, controlled, sauntered into the open gale, cold and fluid, contorted and raw. Quiet, intense, harboring so many unsaid things, ravished and ravaged out into the midday sun, pressing the traces of anarchy, the broken shells of their past and present. “I looked for you.” Eyes, once drawn in mischief, were suddenly all the more corroded, haunted by the disease festering between his heart and limbs, tired of the soulless dance they all stomped, turning and twisting towards both friends, both companions, and wondering when they’d all fallen so far apart. “I looked for both of you.” For months, for eternities, and he’d do it again and again – even if the favor wasn’t returned. But the selfless distortions were mottled and disheveled; avaricious plunges revived with an eerie clamor, and the lonely shackles, the horrific images, he’d managed to capture and contain had forced him into different avenues, along rubbled paths and ruined trails. “Everyone left. Adelric disappeared. Asch was gone. Arwen was murdered.” He stared solely at Aithniel then, blinking away the tethers and ties, the chains and endeavors; wanting to know why he hadn’t been given a fond farewell, why he was forced to wonder and wander and only imagine. “Why couldn’t you say anything?” Then the boy didn’t pause, didn’t relent, gave into all of his convictions and oaths without restraint, rupturing over the flow of impassivity, bestowing his vows, what could have beens, flickers of a future savaged and sketched off the canvas. His voice trickled into a vibrant intensity, brilliant, beautiful promises, a child who still believed in diligence and endurance and perseverance and unwinding, incandescent strength. “I never thought you were annoying. I wouldn’t have let them rip you apart. I wouldn’t have abandoned you.” Maybe he was the biggest fool of all three of them: to believe in those wild, savage dreams. Maybe he was the one that none of them required. Then, the final heartbreak loosened from his mouth, passed over his tongue, riddled and beseeched with truths, with integrity. “I don’t know what I – or we – are worth to you anymore, Aithniel.” Followed by the slimmest vestiges of bitterness, the withdrawn nod of his head, the sinking, shallow bob of his cranium glancing downward, as if he were ashamed before he even proffered the phrase. “You’ve already proven you don’t need us.” I needed you. I needed both of you - he thought, but never said. OOC;; --- TAG;; @[ ] "talk talk talk" |
- table by Niki -
@Rikyn @Aithniel
