11-09-2019, 02:11 PM
He had been acutely aware of the pain that came with his death - the way his own blood splattered against the walls of their forest cave and seeped into the wet stone - the way he gasped for air but could not fill his frayed lungs - the betrayal of his best and only friend. He remembers it all. He can never forget.
Balto had been his companion for 10 years in the darkness of the underground. They had been trapped together, unable to find escape until Beqanna yawned them out. All that time spent together had softened a spot in Faulkor’s black heart for the blue stallion. For a time, this friendship served him well. Balto had sacrificed his mind in order that Faulkor might live forever immortal. His blue friend had given him a means to stave off death longer than Faulkor ever deserved.
Still, though his friend had become quite deranged by the demons in his head, Faulkor had not expected the attack. Perhaps Balto hadn’t expected it either. Nevertheless, Faulkor died at the bloodied feet of his friend - his body broken by Balto’s sharp hooves and his eyes white with bewilderment.
He died king of nothing, just as he had lived. A vagabond. A wanderer of the forest and the underground.
- - - - -
Death has been like a dream to him - nebulous and obscure. He can feel a faint pull from the land of the living - a thread of magic that begs his soul to come back to his body, but he does not listen. He doesn’t listen because he is drunk on the way time means nothing here - intoxicated by his fever dreams that bring her back to him.
She has kept him here - the possibility that he might find her in this Elysium and kill her all over again holds him like a vice. He had not been able to find the white mare again in life - in fact he had done his best to forget her - but here she seems somewhere just out of reach. She is close, but he can’t quite close the distance.
He does not know how much time has passed since his death and now. He does not know how long he has dreamt of the white mare (drifting in and out of time and space) when some force pulls him from his delirious reverie - a thread of magic that suddenly feels more like a chain dragging him from one existence into another. He does not know where he is going, but it feels fast. Then suddenly, and rather unceremoniously, he is dropped.
Balto had been his companion for 10 years in the darkness of the underground. They had been trapped together, unable to find escape until Beqanna yawned them out. All that time spent together had softened a spot in Faulkor’s black heart for the blue stallion. For a time, this friendship served him well. Balto had sacrificed his mind in order that Faulkor might live forever immortal. His blue friend had given him a means to stave off death longer than Faulkor ever deserved.
Still, though his friend had become quite deranged by the demons in his head, Faulkor had not expected the attack. Perhaps Balto hadn’t expected it either. Nevertheless, Faulkor died at the bloodied feet of his friend - his body broken by Balto’s sharp hooves and his eyes white with bewilderment.
He died king of nothing, just as he had lived. A vagabond. A wanderer of the forest and the underground.
- - - - -
Death has been like a dream to him - nebulous and obscure. He can feel a faint pull from the land of the living - a thread of magic that begs his soul to come back to his body, but he does not listen. He doesn’t listen because he is drunk on the way time means nothing here - intoxicated by his fever dreams that bring her back to him.
She has kept him here - the possibility that he might find her in this Elysium and kill her all over again holds him like a vice. He had not been able to find the white mare again in life - in fact he had done his best to forget her - but here she seems somewhere just out of reach. She is close, but he can’t quite close the distance.
He does not know how much time has passed since his death and now. He does not know how long he has dreamt of the white mare (drifting in and out of time and space) when some force pulls him from his delirious reverie - a thread of magic that suddenly feels more like a chain dragging him from one existence into another. He does not know where he is going, but it feels fast. Then suddenly, and rather unceremoniously, he is dropped.