03-11-2018, 12:28 PM
When most close their eyes they see darkness, the emptiness of promise and the whole stretch of the cosmos. When their eyes are closed the perceptions of flesh disappear, and the perceptions of the soul can drift in idle abandon through the shadowy halls of forever. Khaedrik´s eyes close, so that he might see and gain an understanding of the “self”. So that he might dream and draw on the potential he ignores, glean from it the secrets and mysteries of life; chase understanding with desire and flaw. His eyes close on light, and open into glorious darkness.
He clings to the moonlit slant of her face, as if it might save him from that darkness he so desperately yearns and spurns all the same. He seeks redemption in the silverbell chime of her laughter. She still holds the innocence of youth and wild things; he has replaced it with cold and stone. With war on his own mind and madness and the worship of darkness. Khaedrik´s life has been the trial of mental supremacy; the struggle of sanity against insanity where the price of a moment’s weakness is the swift touch of an untimely reaper. When he wasn´t leading shadowlings into battle he was waging war against them.
It is a barrier that stands between him and affection – that darkness which never washes clean. Oh, he would like to spill his secrets to her ears, swapping secrets for sanity and more than a fleeting moment’s respite. His eyes follow her as she takes a step closer; feline and liquid-smooth. There is something stirring in the pit of his stomach – though he cannot place it and thusly thinks nothing of it. And yet….
And yet he takes a hesitant step closer, until he can almost sense the warmth of her stardust skin. The sea-salt on her breath is foreign to his nostrils; and he closes his eyes against it.
”It seems so easy…..” he begins, but doesn´t know how to finish off the sentence. So easy for her, for the rest of them? And what of insanity – how do you tell someone you´ve just met that you are struggling not to let the monsters in your closet devour them?
Khaedrik certainly does not have the answer to that question.
”There are moments” he tries instead, and still he doesn´t open those bitter-black eyes of his for fear of what might lurk behind the shadows there. ”There are moments when I think I am going crazy”
@[Wishbone]