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11-16-2015, 06:16 AM
and it's like you're shouting out my name in the dark
but I can't hear
It had been a long time since he had been beholden to anyone. Mauja had spent most of his Helovian life either a ruler or a vagabond, and before that, well—he had been good enough at obeying.because there's ice in my heart. He had been a cold and distant creature, a detached machine, shining in the light of moon and flames as he stood guard over the scenes of his destruction. He had been death, and he had been flawless. He had been perfect. He had been nothing. He had been the Frostheart. The morning sun was rising, bringing with it all the relentless heat of a summer day, tempered only by the nearby ocean; Mauja's eyes closed as the last echo of Tembovu's mighty voice died out between the pines. And what was he now? Certainly not the Frostheart—the stone cold executioner from the north, the one who had sought to cleanse Helovia. No—the Frostheart did not exist anymore. He had perished in the flames of rationality and grief. What was left was just pieces of a shattered life, a broken, lost creature. What would the herd make of this—those who had not been there on the Riptide Isles, and seen what had gone down? What would they think of Tembovu calling them together, and Mauja just being a ghost in their crowd? Should he appear at all? There would be so many faces there.. so many people.. questions that would, surely, need answers; his eyes cracked open, slid sideways. As long as he was part of a herd, he would never be well and truly free. There would always be duty. He swallowed. There would always be the well-oiled machine needing to run, and they were all just parts of it. If he malfunctioned, the whole shit would, and it would be his fault. Slowly, painfully, the snow-ghost dragged himself through the summer forest, thinning mist swirling around his legs. He had thrown the cursed crown at Tembovu—the least he could do was be here, and support him. So, neither first nor last, Mauja came upon the others gathered, walking in silence and with his great white head bowed. Broken. |
