déodat,Beyond him, the light was lifting up and over the horizon. It would have been a magical thing had he not been so alone to witness it. The past few months (or had it been a year?) were still very much a blur to him and though they left him feeling more confused than ever, he still had faith in the cause he now followed with the vigor of a young colt. Life was his focus and while the purpose he once felt toward the Basin had all but left him, the Blood Prince had not fallen victim to the same endeavors that had killed his Sire and his Clan. Time and again he spent hours upon days contemplating the loss of his family and his pride, but after so much darkness he was thankful to admit that it was not all lost. In fact, his dignity had only been damaged, but not yet beyond repair. So he clung to the hope of a brighter future filled with victory, with success, and with the brimming threat of curiosity that made him wonder just where he stood. He had been a devout citizen of the Basin until that moment because he had been so filled with an eager hatred for all those who had formerly damned him. But these creatures were the least of his worries now- now he faced something much larger, more significant… He faced the rebellion of his own desires.
The longing to learn and the longing to overcome all that had made him bitter was something that was becoming increasingly heavy on his mind. He had spent his dark nights and oddly enough his dark days pondering where he would go “from here”. That’s not to say that he had not found friendship and devotion in the Basin, because Lena was an ever-pressing object of affection on his silent heart, along with d’Art and a few other friendly faces that were certainly swell acquaintances all the same… But what purpose had he here any longer?
The disaster of the Invasion had made him quiet as of late and though he longed to seethe and mourn with his companions, he could not tame the swell of fire that burned haphazardly in his now lively heart. Nothing remained in his conscious from those days of warfare with the Edge and that was reminder enough to such an eager warrior that those violent days were coming to a swift and unexpected end. He felt no rush of vitality considering the idea of bloodshed and instead found ruthless confusion blocking his hell-damned path. It was as if his legs were paused beneath him, fighting the way toward an inner hatred that burned for no other reason than mindless, opinionated banter between herd lands. He intended to stay with this close-knit community he had called home from the first day he set foot in Helovia, but perhaps his youth had been stolen from him and it was time to admit that he was indeed changing.
A flawless curtain of ebony threads fell over an ominous set of piercing blue eyes. The colors were striking beneath the new sunlit skies and Déodat had almost forgotten his own worth up until that moment. There was something enthralling about the way his forelock and mane cascaded down along his neck and over one muscular shoulder. It had certainly grown in length since the last time he was able to properly inspect it, even from such a limited viewpoint. He was not often one to indulge in his own self-appearance but he knew that in spite of losing the sun to complete shadow that he had not lost his own personal value. He was a striking creature and perhaps, at times, he was the first to admit it.
Slowly, he rounded the outer borders of the Basin, patrolling the morning risers in hopes of reveling in the shocked faces he encountered at the sight of the first sunrise after so long. The bird song was louder than he had ever come to remember it, but of course he had yet to hear it since the light of day was stolen from the residents of Helovia. It was almost shrill and so high-pitched that it made him cringe. He was overwhelmed by all the color in the world, despite the everlasting winter that plagued his homelands. Never had he ever been so delighted to see the snow and the pristine virtue of its perfection. It glistened and gleamed like a small child beneath his feet and for the first time in a long time, he let his voice ripple to the heavens in a cheery chorus, happy to embrace the life he once loathed. |
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