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10-10-2015, 03:00 PM
When, Fractures
He could taste its hells and heavens
he saw everything at once
in the touch of a killer's love
he saw everything, but once.
ASHAMIN
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
BEAUTY IS PERCEPTION
The haruspex's body convulsed in a fashion characterized by its torpor. He fell as if in slow motion--descended into death as if he belonged there.
It took nothing more than a touch for his awkward body to shy away from the herd lead's. It was a kiss of death, a fatal memory of his father that he'd misappropriated. Deimos was not Ashamin's father, no. Deimos was the reaper, the goddamn bringer of death, and Ashamin had pressed his neck to that stallion's scythe with all the indignity of the dying.
Now, as his body stretched thin across the sand and his black eyes rolled to show treacherous whites, he thought about the approaching light. Still his tail, incapable of being lifted, was perhaps brushing the reaper's hind hock. Still there was contact, and Ashamin the haruspex couldn't move.
The shudders were small, just barely perceptible. His companion, a small shadow against the wild tossing of the sea, cried out like an infant. He was an infant, and there was nothing for Lochan to do but cry. It was an endless, sorrowful sort of bray that did not seem as if it could be quieted. These were cries of mourning, as he felt their bond tighten and expand, shudder and fade.
Ashamin tried to look at Deimos, to perhaps see what the reaper had done to him, but there was no control. His eyelids fluttered in a chaotic series and an incomprehensible code. He tried to speak, but could only utter the first syllables of what he had called his father, could only barely rasp out: "Wh-wh-y-y-y...?"
Lochan was too wise to draw closer to the reaper, to charge, but his bold white eyes were fire enough to burn the anger within him. Still young but not foolish, still young but smart enough to know what death was, he wanted then to end the life of the one who had threatened his bonded.
So young, and already so burdened with malice.
Ashamin struggled to stand, shocks like seizures gripping him with every movement. He felt his body grow weaker, even as his tail trailed away from that deadly touch and his body was free of the reaper's magical grip. Was this the power, then, that Deimos had? If it was so, who was his herd leader now, but a murderer?
And why, how, had Ashamin become his target? He couldn't find it in himself to understand that this was nothing more than a mistake, he could only understand the fading heartbeat in his breast. Everything was going to change, after this. He was drawing so close to death that he could taste its hells and heavens, and everything was going to change.
Table by Jen, with help from Avis
See Ashamin's profile for more information about Lochan, Rakt, and his various items.
All magic and force allowed, barring death and permanent injury.
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