a thorn among the petals

the Rift

[PRIVATE] a thorn among the petals

Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549

Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5

Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT

Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit Bunnie

#13

03-09-2017, 02:16 PM

sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:

With the stone safely with the sea-mare, Duir wanders off to play with Nimue in the falling blooms, answering her whale song whistles with his own weird calls and grunts. Certainly less beautiful than Nimue’s chirrups and croons, I’m at least glad he isn’t making the weird, hauntingly shrill noise that reminds me of a woman screaming.

“What are you doing?!” I’d asked him the first time I’d heard the horrible racket.

“Giving praise to the world!” he had answered, his eyes afire with what I could only call hope, and oneness. It had made it harder to be upset with him for making me want to kill him (thereby ending that sound forever).

Glancing over at me, amused with the memory, he promises not to praise anything, here.

The moment is timed in perfect synchronization with Tiamat’s influx of good intentions and happy thoughts, so that I almost rise to my feet for the sheer happiness intoxicating my blood suddenly. Gone, swiftly, are the morose thoughts of my past, or the mourning layered over it, for the urge to simply exist in the moment, and with a contented sound, my body leans towards the sea-mare’s, so that our shoulders might touch. Turning to meet her eyes when she nervously inquires upon my magic further, the worry I feel beneath the eager, helpful smile currently plastered on my face is sealed away.

I really don’t want her to hate me, is a sudden realization, a frightening one, especially considering I don’t usually care if someone likes me or not.

"I guess it does a little bit, if you fight it," I reply, thinking about when Albrecht and Merlin had touched it the rock, and how badly I hadn’t wanted them to have that control over me. Though I had mostly felt fear, and anxiety, there had also been an undeniable mental strain that was very akin to pain, and, of course, the struggle of your muscles against themselves could leave you quite worn. "Mostly, its just unnerving."

She teases me, though, which makes me feel a little bit better underneath this friendly, open façade of the magic, that maybe she won’t hold it against me that I’m a little (okay, a lot) darker than she is, inside, and out. Looking away with bashfulness I don’t quite understand and a fluttering in my chest that is warm and exciting, like fire, without the burns, I playfully scoff as she giggles.

Her barrage of questions is what draws my golden eyes back to hers, from the flower laden branches above. With my mouth tilted in a smile, I try to remember each question, to answer it, even though she seems embarrassed to have thrown them all at me in such a fashion (meaning I maybe shouldn’t have to get them all). Still, her enthusiasm is endearing, and, as I always have, I like talking about myself, and my adventures, to such a degree that I often forget to ask others about theirs.

"It seems to effect me so long as the person touches the stone, and I guess I’ve learned some stuff. I certainly know now what it is like to be powerless to someone else’s whims and thoughts," I start, thinking about Merlin, and how she had almost driven me to doing unspeakable things, or Albrecht, and the feeling of being very, very old, and alone, of your own volition, "I’ve almost been raped by a twisted child, and got to experience what it feels like to be old, bitterly resentful, and alone. I... I’m quite afraid that I’ll be like Albrecht, someday. I hated him, before he touched the rock."

I'd tried to kill him once, after all. I might have tried again to crush his skull beneath my hooves, or walked away from him as he plead for help from the heart of a blaze I could spare him from; I certainly would not have shared with him compassion, or given a fuck like I couldn’t help to now. It was easy to be wrathful and cold towards someone until you understood them. Then it was only easy to be angry with yourself, and how you always seemed to do things that would, eventually, make you just like everyone you never wanted to be, in the first place. Sighing, I look away from her, down at my dark knees. Even being Tiamat can’t stop the heaviness from stealing away my smile, for a somber expression, the look of inward pondering.

"And I still do. But, Tiamat," looking back to her, golden eyes searching, honest in their doubt, not shielded behind the ruse of knowing all and being in complete control, "I can’t hate him anymore without hating myself, too, because I know why he is the way he is... I know, and I resent him for showing me in the first place."

Because it makes me feel so ashamed to be me.

sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.

Image by TheArtlex@DA
@Tiamat