Nature's great masterpiece : an elephant ; the only harmless great thing.

Ears swing backwards on his outstretched head, tilting away from the tears that make her exquisite eyes over-bright. But they do not fall— though this does not bring relief to the elephant, for she recoils, shrinks, trembles within her delicate, elegant skin before him. And then she takes her head, herself, away from him as she turns. His entire hide twitches as he feels the denial of her touch, wholly.

She tells him that she had wanted him, despite calling him a mere friend. He had realized that after the fact, in the Green Labyrinth, after having mounted Nyx and after being trapped beneath a dying God. But… but this didn’t matter. This explanation would have been a justification for betraying Rexanna— and, for that, there was no absolution.

Then she nods, affirming his question. Ears perk forward in shock, eyes widening as he watches her. Then they swing backwards once more, pinning against his skull as his eyes crease and jaw clenches in anger, confusion, and guilt. How could she think that?

She faces him, (finally, finally) giving him her eyes. But it is a bittersweet victory because now they are streaming tears. “All the love I’ve ever given has been easily replaced.” She is right, he does not understand because, “All the love you’ve given me has been irreplaceable,” his voice quiet, low. But he sees that his actions have made this seem untrue— have made him like the stallions of her past, like Caleb. He has made her feel used, discarded. Guilt overwhelms his anger, burning him from the inside out.

“I loved you.” His remorse swells. “loved.” It crests. “loved.” It crashes within him. He barely hears the rest of her remarks, he only registers the past-tense of that fated, ruinous word. He had lost a love once before. But he had never lost the love of a lover. As his chest collapsed in on itself, becoming an oppressive weight of wretchedness, his shock-numbed mind found no purchase in his painful memories. This was newly, acutely agonizing. “Loved?” The crushing blow whispers on his hoarse voice.

The beast, which had been subdued— conquered, even— by the gilded princess’s affection, love, and trust, stirs. Raising its head, it lazily stretches in his barrel, beginning to send its tendrils of destructive poison through his veins. His heart shivered, no longer accustomed to pumping such venomous anger. The monster peers out from the cracks in the elephant’s broken, blue windows of his soul, assessing the shattered silhouette of a mare before them. ‘My, my,’ it seemed to say, ‘You’ve been busy without me.’ And it tried to muster some sick sense of accomplishment in his barrel. Another being destroyed, another vindication.

But, it couldn't muster this response. The elephant had grown independent of the inner, destructive beast during its absence. And, in the face of Rexanna’s pain, it had no power. There she was, saving him even in her quivering heartbreak. The inner daemon of his past rages against this powerlessness, screeching with talons of fire within him. A tremor runs through his giant body, unused to caging such a violently wild beast.

A deep, shuddering breath fills his burning chest with tangy air. Its healing salt has no effect on the dense black hole that now resides there, and it has no influence on cooling the blazes flaming in him. He is losing traction, losing control, in the face of Rexanna’s pain and tears. His hooves bite into the sandy bottom, trying to anchor him so he can stay and try to salvage them. But there is no mooring for the elephant in this storm. He must get his daemon away from her, away from him.

He reaches out, a last benediction against her skin, as he so tenderly smooths a tear from her bruised cheek. He traces his thick lips against her soft coat, down her neck, hovering at her withers for a few, long moments. “My princess,” his whisper lips her skin, “I am so sorry.” He deeply breathes in her scent of sunshine and lilies.

Then he turns, taking his beast away from the gilded, broken doll.