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12-03-2012, 01:30 AM
(This post was last modified: 12-03-2012, 01:30 AM by Prometheus.)
I grin in the face of the fire. What a comforting and familiar thing it is. Once I had walked through fire, manipulated it to my liking. I had almost killed with such a power- killed the one I love. And now the god stands before me as if he knows nothing of my ills. Certainly the God of the Sun cansee into my mind, clouded by death as it is. Or had the gods created something even they could not control? The thought tickles me, but the God's comment turns my face to stone. "One would think you would better understand the passing of time after your sojourn," I utter in a somewhat low growl, remembering with a pang the loss of my companion. "Time is just as much measured in loss as it is anticipation. Even the dead are subject to such ills." I had been a fool to trust Midas with such an important task. The question remains, however; am I the murderer for weakening Pyr, is Kri for crushing him, or is Midas for failing to heal him? Only two of the suspects could suffer for their crimes, and I have no intention of fair trial. But this is no time for thoughts of revenge or idle chatter. The Sun God speaks, warning me of pain and prize, and my body stiffens to greet the oncoming magic. Bones melt and shift; the bucket drops. From my back the bones extend, and for a moment there is no pain. But then time shifts and I stand as my potential, with feathered wings bursting forth through flesh and spurting hot, living blood against the stone. Were the air not so hot to begin with I may have heard it, but as it is I feel the pressure and burning pain around and within me. I let out a wretched cry, one of giving up, one of forgetting to care. I see pulsating light and spots of red and white cloud my vision. I remember that which I love, that tiny tiger cub now grown. My body curls and hits the stone with sudden force. The body of the potential withers away in illusion, but my child-like figure still seems weak. Flesh tinges where it connects the bone wings, the wings that instinctively expand and unfurl. They clatter together, creating a beautifully sickening chorus of sound that is furthered by the crackling of flame. Eyes filled with worship turn upwards, and I gaze up at the god to speak. "Thank you." [[<3]] |
![[Image: siggy1_zpsfwdjquxw.png]](http://i250.photobucket.com/albums/gg246/abbie3321451/abbie3321451131/siggy1_zpsfwdjquxw.png)
please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
