knox

Sunset.

Thin, a prickly sort of veil, but covering enough. Knox lurks, cloaking himself in shadow and seeking the target: that monstrous mare.

It is not good of Knox to spy on his son. This much, he knows. But how else is he to hear that child's voice, to witness the life of his son? Manhattan wants him to love Milo. She said it when she died, she says it in his dreams. Even now, sometimes, on the dying frostfall wind and in the corners of his ailing mind, he hears her:

{Manhattan:} Love them.

Truly, truly he wishes to. But Aylin is gone, Milo is shut away in silence. How can he love a boy like that, how can he take him into his shadow? Every encounter ignites rage in the father. When he tries to get Milo to speak and hears only silent fear, he can only feel anger.

So he has resorted to spying. Is it really such a crime? Maybe. But he has learned so many things, learned of so many new creatures walking in this land, just by listening to the things Milo whispers when he is alone. When his son sleeps Knox stands near, guarding. When he wakes and greets the day, tells the memory of Knox's own companion all that has happened as of late, Knox is ready to learn.

The most recent tale is that of that monstrous mare. The one with the teeth who marked his son's skin, the one that saved Milo's life. And as much as Knox would sometimes act as if he wouldn't care if Milo lived or died, in that moment he could not deny his relief or his thankfulness.

Whoever this creature was, Knox vowed to saved them. Now, as the sun sets, he finds her. He thinks it is her, anyway. He can't imagine there are too many in Helovia that match Milo's rather wide-eyed description.

Beneath his cloak he shifts, taking on the unflinching form of Cem, the white commander. He is massive, unafraid. He bears age with pride. What would be weakness on others is strength on him.

He snorts and rids himself of the cloak, approaching the mare from behind and sending forth his blinding magic, hoping to lead her home like the red stallion. The only problem is now he lacks the emotional detachment, the cold steel blade of duty. Now, he is messing with family.

{Cem:} Why are you hesitating?

It is true, he shouldn't be. He should be leaning on his eldest ancestor's experience, but no, he cannot... the blinding magic retreats just as it rests in the eyes of the mare in the wood, pulling back to Knox and leaving him standing dumb behind her, an ancient marble pillar.

Somewhere, in his troubled heart, he struggles to decide if Milo should be blamed for this mistake.

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