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04-23-2016, 10:40 AM
Ashamin
Ashamin the haruspex, the painted buck, the stag among kings, the once quiet little stud, was returning home a different beast entirely. Ashamin the Clovenheart. He knew, as his sides heaved with terror and effort (for truly he had run, far from that wicked mare and all she had turned him into,) that they would both be changed. He and the philosopher, the winged trickster, they were different now. They were partners in a devastating crime. Implicated in tragedy. Forever, forever, changed. And for that he bore a new name, something as close to what he could imagine himself to be. Broken, and forever too reliant on that organ that felt to him as if it were size of a child unborn. A child murdered by his rage. Was there anything left to feel, after that? Surely he needed to remember himself, remember the colt he'd once been. By his father's side Ashamin had been genuine. Why had Veril really given up teaching his son to fight? Had it been because Ashamin was too inept, or simply too terrifying to face? Perhaps the late stag had seen that potential in his son: the potential to become this. Utterly broken, lost in a sea of devastated morality, and struggling just to breathe. He could barely see himself in the storm. His companions were there, too, he knew that. He knew Lochan and Rakt were somewhere in this snow but they weren't beside him, he didn't want them to be. Stay? the little eye had asked with such kindness, as if he had not just witness his bonded end a life. Guide? Help? But no, the offers fell on deaf ears. It was Rakt that had made Lochan give up. The younger, red companion had flashed a bloody image of their home in Ashamin's mind and pulled Lochan from the haruspex's side. They would be there waiting for him when he got back. He didn't fear for their safety in the storm, not with their keen vision, but they feared for his. Whether or not he would make it out alive... who knew. When the angel fell from the sky, dark and familiar, Ashamin could only seek it out. Hollow and numb as he was, he should have stayed alone. He was a killer now, after all. But it wold be easier with company as long as they weren't trying to help him; as long as they hadn't just witnessed what he had in himself. Ashamin just couldn't do this one alone or with his companions the witnesses. He wouldn't be safe on his own. He moved forward, only close enough to find her dark shape in the snow. Rhea. Ashamin had seen her before, maybe once at a meeting or some other time. And once he was there he wanted to fall too, let his body spread in the snow and languish there. Maybe he would never stand again. Only Rhea stood, and Rhea pressed on. And he had to call out to her as if they were friends and not passing faces in the crowd at a meeting or by the lake. He needed to make a connection because if he didn't? Well, who knew. "Rhea?" "" |
@Rhea (no need to tag me just shoot me a message on skype)
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
Do not tag me, please message on skype instead
