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09-16-2012, 02:27 PM
(This post was last modified: 09-16-2012, 02:27 PM by Prometheus.)
I had desired to wander beyond our normal borders and thus dragged you with me to the frostbreath steppe. I am familiar with the land after my encounter with Ink, and so I pick across it confidently, leaving metal-shaped hoof prints in the ice. Wherever I step, the heat of the seer's fire has burned the earth and the metal has been drawn upwards to my familiar comfort. We are quite familiar with each other now, the earth and I. I have walked through its fire without a single mark to show for it, let gold and steel line my hide and fill the wells of my lungs and remained unscathed. This is to be truly invincible. To be a product of a god is one thing- to be made in his image is another entirely. You do not fare as well as I. The burns from my melting chains have been left untreated and I have ignored their infection with a mastery that is only apparent in the most heartless of souls. Your ribs are bruised and battered, and the strain from the constant walking I have forced upon you and the rest I have denied you has at last snapped bone. You walk slowly and I push you onwards, ignoring the sharp protrusion that lifts up the flesh of your flank like a tent. The metal that wells at my feet chases yours, forcing you to move faster, else you'll be burned once again. My love for you grows stronger each day. You exist with a look of sheer pain and hurt ever present in your eyes, and I am becoming more aware of the fact that it is all because of me each day. I cannot stand it- I despise my love for you but even more than that I despise myself! Strange that what I once loved I can no longer bear, what I once abhorred has become my dirty little secret. You follow in my wake as I press on into the territory, but I let the attacks of the iron upon your heels fade and wane. You don't need this- for the first time in some time I feel shame. Before us appear the forms of Ktulu and Midas, two members of the herd that I've not yet met, but heard much about. Midas, the steadfast warrior, and Ktulu, the mysterious hybrid. The two intrigue me- why are they out in this cold, scraping at the earth as if they are expecting it to open up at their feet? I stand several paces away, looking a child, letting metal pool at my dirtied hooves. Maybe they will tell me why they are here, what it is they truly seek. Surely it is not the cold. |
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please tag Prometheus in all replies!
magic & force is permitted at your own peril.
