Khaedrik is all too familiar with the voices in his head. He had come here on a whim, and he did not belong. That he knew, deep within his heart – that he was unworthy of these tasks, that he was not built for such glory; a fact he had known ever since he stepped foot upon these grounds. Yet he had come, and Khaedrik wasn´t inclined to believe that some romantic rapture or other valiant action had been what guided his steps over here - no, not quite. His perspective of world was far more realistic, more mundane than this and thus the idea was discarded at once. No, he had done something, something terrible – and now it was too late, without chance to intervene, without anyone to stop him dead on his trek and advise him on he would now have to face the one thing he actually fears.
Khaedriks eyes are consumed by emotions unfit, terror, disgust, panic. He fears no snakes or public admittance of his fears. What he does fear, is that voice in his head. That voice that threatens to drown him in menace and wanton hunger. As he stands before his phantom (him and not him) – his shadows spring to life – they, made entirely of that voice in his head has seen their opportunity and now reach for goddess and onlookers with surprising speed. There is the phantom; spurning them on in their wild hunt. Khaedrik is frozen – a hapless golden child in the middle of the arena. He must stop them, he knows this – for if he doesn´t….
It is too grim to think about.
<i>No</i> he screams, and he reaches out with his mind – weaving tendrils of shadow around his phantoms neck. They creak and strain, threatening to break under the onslaught of the vile creature, but in the end – it stops. In the end Khaedrik succeeds. The thing lays straining on the ground before them – a horrible thing, made of evil and nightmares, bound now to shadow and the last scraps of willpower he owns.
Khaedrik stares at the Goddess, triumphantly.
The breed you seek is the Marwari Horse
word count 367
Khaedriks eyes are consumed by emotions unfit, terror, disgust, panic. He fears no snakes or public admittance of his fears. What he does fear, is that voice in his head. That voice that threatens to drown him in menace and wanton hunger. As he stands before his phantom (him and not him) – his shadows spring to life – they, made entirely of that voice in his head has seen their opportunity and now reach for goddess and onlookers with surprising speed. There is the phantom; spurning them on in their wild hunt. Khaedrik is frozen – a hapless golden child in the middle of the arena. He must stop them, he knows this – for if he doesn´t….
It is too grim to think about.
<i>No</i> he screams, and he reaches out with his mind – weaving tendrils of shadow around his phantoms neck. They creak and strain, threatening to break under the onslaught of the vile creature, but in the end – it stops. In the end Khaedrik succeeds. The thing lays straining on the ground before them – a horrible thing, made of evil and nightmares, bound now to shadow and the last scraps of willpower he owns.
Khaedrik stares at the Goddess, triumphantly.
The breed you seek is the Marwari Horse
word count 367