tyrath

He flew in on ashen wings, back legs outstretched to sink into the sands before his fores. He had lingered near the beaches after the events of the other day, wondering if Kisamoa would appear once again in the same area — or if he would appear in another water body somewhere else and command masses from there.

Tyrath was hardly surprised when his suspicions were proved right, the surprise came when his Aunt appeared in her usual fanfare of dark mysticism. Deeply cloven hooves touched down with weight behind them as long flight feathered swept over the white grains, his gaze fixated on both the divine entities which occupied the beach.

Was his Grandfather going to appear? Was Time and Earth also going to make an appearance to quell the bubbling suspicions of their subjects, or was the Moon Goddess taking this by the horns and steering it now?

So many questions, but he didn't want to ruin the moment by voicing them all. He had arrived at an opportune time, for his head snapped immediately to the grey and gold boy when his words floated into his ashy ears.

I'm your Nephew, Aithniel's Son. I have a brother too. Luther.

The furnace within roared to life, spinal column an infernal rupture line of fire as emotions swirled within him. He had brothers, by his mother. Yes, on further inspection he could see his mothers touches. Touches which had desaturated his own coat from the black his sire wore. But they were as different as night and day, this Boy was the glittering rays of sunlight which shone after the fire. Tyrath looked like the smouldering devastation which raged and lay extinguished. What did this Luther look like? Like the sunshine boy crowned in gold? Or was he different too.

"Hello Great-Aunt Moon," he greeted finally, fanged maw splitting into a smile, "and to you, Mountain." there's a fond note reserved for the Earth Giantess, for his family, that was what she was after all. His steps took him forward in a leisurely gait until he was close enough to the gathering but a comfortable distance should things unfold in a decidedly less than friendly way.


"And finally to you, brother of mine." Quad-horned skull tilted to better glance at the younger boy, a curious look upon his face as his lips twitched between a smile and a smirk. His feelings were still conflicted, ever changing as the sea and the winds, but family was something he held dear, was it not? He had always held that as a core value despite his feelings of abandonment and dread. "I'm Tyrath, a son of Aithniel as well."



"Talk."

This is the Hour of Twilight,

and all will burn