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tembovu
The Elephant King had listened in silence, teeth on edge as he ears had strained forward to hear Mauja question the Moon. Tension gripped the great stallion as he listened, muscles standing taunt agains the scarred buckskin of his hide.
He knew, without doubt, which he would choose should the question be turned to him. But, more importantly, he knew which option he mentally pushed Mauja to take— body straining forward against the misty boundaries as he unknowingly pressed to be closer to the snowy spotted leopard. But the mists held firm, unperturbed by the pushes of a mere mortal.
“Immortality.” The whisper thundered into the King’s ears as the mists fell away— “No.” His own, answering whisper was louder, firmer, more painful than he intended or anticipated. After all his friend had lost, after seeing his daughter spill her lifeblood on the sands, after holding him after a man he loved dropped and left his heart on cold rocks of loneliness; after all of that and he just signed up for a continual repeat of those things forever?
“Immortality is not a painless existence.”
The words of the goddess repeated in his mind. To sleep in yesterday’s horrors and tomorrow’s dreams forever— what was time to the immortal but a thread to wind around your fingers? Around and around, tighter and tighter until your fingers are white and the fiber bites sharply into your skin… Only to unwrap it and feel the painful resurgence of blood into the starved tissues. Tissues starved of oxygen, a life starved of an end. How else does one give weight to anything they did, if it was not bound by time? If there was not kind of sacrifice?
An infinite life of meaningless, finite relations. Black-rimmed ears sweep flush with his skull as his navy eyes stared up at the speckled man. The immortal man, shrouded in moon glow atop the cliffs. Inside warred emotions, none of them good. Shame, guilt, despair— but something pushed his legs in slow, sweeping strides towards the still leopard, leaving Erthe behind.
Something akin to compassion.
His legs only faltered once, as he neared the man he had ignited. “Mauja,” his low voice was reduced to a rough whisper, “Mauja, I…” his hooves stopped as his voice died. He stood off the side of the spotted flank, with enough room between them to not impose his dangerous bulk on the Frozen Light.
Ears tilted back, eyes glancing away once from the glowing white skin of his friend (friend?), before returning to search for his face, for his eyes. “Sorry isn’t enough,” he finally murmured quietly, as much to himself as to the immortal man.
He knew, without doubt, which he would choose should the question be turned to him. But, more importantly, he knew which option he mentally pushed Mauja to take— body straining forward against the misty boundaries as he unknowingly pressed to be closer to the snowy spotted leopard. But the mists held firm, unperturbed by the pushes of a mere mortal.
“Immortality.” The whisper thundered into the King’s ears as the mists fell away— “No.” His own, answering whisper was louder, firmer, more painful than he intended or anticipated. After all his friend had lost, after seeing his daughter spill her lifeblood on the sands, after holding him after a man he loved dropped and left his heart on cold rocks of loneliness; after all of that and he just signed up for a continual repeat of those things forever?
“Immortality is not a painless existence.”
The words of the goddess repeated in his mind. To sleep in yesterday’s horrors and tomorrow’s dreams forever— what was time to the immortal but a thread to wind around your fingers? Around and around, tighter and tighter until your fingers are white and the fiber bites sharply into your skin… Only to unwrap it and feel the painful resurgence of blood into the starved tissues. Tissues starved of oxygen, a life starved of an end. How else does one give weight to anything they did, if it was not bound by time? If there was not kind of sacrifice?
An infinite life of meaningless, finite relations. Black-rimmed ears sweep flush with his skull as his navy eyes stared up at the speckled man. The immortal man, shrouded in moon glow atop the cliffs. Inside warred emotions, none of them good. Shame, guilt, despair— but something pushed his legs in slow, sweeping strides towards the still leopard, leaving Erthe behind.
Something akin to compassion.
His legs only faltered once, as he neared the man he had ignited. “Mauja,” his low voice was reduced to a rough whisper, “Mauja, I…” his hooves stopped as his voice died. He stood off the side of the spotted flank, with enough room between them to not impose his dangerous bulk on the Frozen Light.
Ears tilted back, eyes glancing away once from the glowing white skin of his friend (friend?), before returning to search for his face, for his eyes. “Sorry isn’t enough,” he finally murmured quietly, as much to himself as to the immortal man.
Tembo is having an existential crisis FOR Mau o_o
Please tag Tembovu.
