| They had forgotten. The stories of the old had simply become forgotten or became legends. He faded away as well, becoming part of those stories. The stories of the old world were where he fell into, just another old king that once ruled a forgotten-kingdom. A kingdom that used to be feared by many and held the highest regard for. They will not know that names that are written upon his heart, those that he has killed and died at his hands. They will not know the souls he has kept locked away, the ones that scream to be released and to find their peace. But they will know that he is the devil, bestowed into this world—a ruler of death. But he is not the monster they made him to be. He has been a father to a handful of children. He has been a deceitful lover to some, but loved another full-heartedly. He has been a son to a once queen—a mother he adored like no other. He is a legend—forever he will live. The darkness pulls and tethers him together. Piece by piece he will always be rebuilt. The earth pulls and sews at his limbs. Flesh and bone mend back together by anatomical and physiological elements at the will of death. A salve to the darkness is what he ultimately is. He is drawn to the darkness, to worship and created to corrupt. He thirsts for greed and to be someone many years ago has shaped him to be this way. And at times he tries to return to what he once was—a man who only wanted to be something. Beneath the hollowed-dark eyes remains the boy he used to be. --- The night claims him again. He finds himself as a shadow-dweller of the night, just as he had been with the weight of the crown long ago. He used to slither through the night like a snake ready to strike, a wolf ready to hunt. Tonight though, he is not the snake or the wolf, he is a wander. These trees are not the same he has grown up in, they are not the familiar pine woods that were giants reaching for the gods. These redwoods are more; they are the gods of these woods. There are secrets here, secrets that they hold. Secrets that he seeks to find, to understand why he is the way he is. A fog intertwines through the tree trunks. It smells of salt from the nearby sea. Memory masks over the smell of the salt, as familiar images intertwine into the world he sees before it. It fills with the familiar scent of the mountains he used to know, the mountains that he once called home—the Chamber. He moves at a pace that is quick, one that leads him through the familiar paths of the Chamber. The chestnut can fill his heart bursting; the adrenaline is overwhelming. He feels it underneath his hooves, the pounding under the earth is evidence he is getting closer. Thump, thump, it calls him, it beckons him to come closer. Thump, thump, thump. The beat of it pounds within his eardrums now. It’s calling him home… home to a world that is long gone but he answers it. Disillusioned by a world he once knew; a world he would give his soul to return to. He would give up everything for a chance to redeem himself. But there are no mountains, there is trees and the smell of the salt. Rodrik shakes his head, images of a world he once knew slip away. The redwoods are replaced; reality of the world finally being put back together. No longer does he hear the thumping of the heart in the earth, nor the pounding in his ears. Rodrik isn't sure what he is doing here. A world of dreams flickering in and out of his mind. Kagerus, what have you done… he wonders. |
![[Image: lRJZ7qE.gif]](https://i.imgur.com/lRJZ7qE.gif)
