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The flurry of being able to showcase his magic, truly compose, wield it, strike it against stone or rubble caused another flutter of excitement: he wanted the world to know he was powerful, to realize he had talent, he had capabilities, he had the chance to flourish and shine, mold the earth to his designs, reign with Machiavellian interludes. Adelric’s acceptance was all he needed, and the dark princeling twisted and turned over which one to orchestrate first; the brilliant, wild sparks of fire or the endless chasm of Poseidon precision. Crouching down, low into the reeds, he embarked towards the flames, hastening the fuels of his kindling with steady breaths, rapt concentration, and a narrowed gaze. It pulsed within him, ferocious and eager, steady and sure, a maddening wave of infernos and heat, frothing and foaming, searing and seething, and as he reached out to touch one of the strong, enduring grasses, he could feel it churning within him, a future abyss –
And then…nothing.
He rose back up to his height immediately, confused, bewildered, shocked, and a little heartbroken. The scion’s brows crinkled, furrowing, looking more and more like his father everyday, staring blankly at the reeds, not noticing the approach of another colt, not realizing his enchantments, his invocations, had been ripped away by the presence of the stranger, disappointment flooring his features one by one. He could find no explanation, he could trace no riddle or foundation, and his face faltered into a very pathetic-looking sadness, as if someone had run over his favorite toy. Erebos dropped his cranium, murmuring towards the thicket, Adelric and Tobias, ashamed by what had transpired. “I’m sorry. It’s not working.” The boy shook his skull, not understanding or comprehending the matter, because he’d practiced for so long, it was odd to have it simply not exist, especially when he had melted it within his body, how it had run rampant through his veins…. “I don’t know why.”
His gaze locked upon Adelric’s for a moment, awaiting to witness the other lad’s dismay and disenchantment (perhaps that notion cut worse, for he’d truly longed to show his friend everything he’d learned, and the bitter, rancorous bile needling his throat traced patterns of misery), only to watch the spotted one’s contortions rankle into surprise. The little beast twisted his cranium towards the imminent direction, eyes narrowing for a few fractions to glance and stare and scrutinize the newcomer. He looked oddly familiar, courted and coated in black, in sketches of crimson, but Erebos couldn’t place where he’d last seen him (somewhere along the Basin fringes, perhaps?). He could be close to their age even, around their lanky, long-limbed statures and physiques, those gangly times where the body couldn’t keep up with their rapid development and ensured awkwardness for a series of months. The infidel tilted his head minutely, throwing his downcast features aside, granting camaraderie and exuberance where Adelric channeled quiet contemplation. “Hi Ode! Nice to meet you! I’m Erebos!” His speech was wild and buoyant, like most of his days, but as the opposing child asked him what they’d been doing, dissatisfaction tumbled into his shoulders and down through his toes, smile rapidly chased away. “I was trying to show him my magic, but its not functioning right now.”
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