Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
For once it seems his eyesight would be relatively spared during the daytime. He had found the tall pine trees which guarded the borders of the kingdom quite to his liking. These would provide some relief for the shadow child during the day when most of the bright sun rays encountered some difficulty in penetrating the forbidding trees. But the majority of them had come across an even difficult obstacle for dark thunder clouds settled overhead.
Michaelis found great joy within this simple occurrence.
It meant, for the most part, that he could wander about as he pleased with the least amount of disturbance in his eyes for the day. Usually his days were spent hiding amongst what shade he could find and keeping his eyes closed to shut out whatever sunlight he could. But the beginnings of this thunderstorm had eased his troubles for a couple of hours. It had been lightly drizzling off and on, but Michaelis hadn’t really minded. He could keep himself relatively dry during the harder rains with a combination of willpower and the unashamed use of those majestic trees.
The shadow child was quite pleased that his new home had seemingly welcomed him on his first day within its grasp. He briefly wondered if his first order of business should have been seeking Engelfors as soon as he had crossed into the kingdom. But he had been too happily drawn to the new-found shadow tendrils of which had been birthed by the towering trees surrounding him. Perhaps he needed to familiarize himself with his new acquaintances before finding the palomino mare. He allowed their silken touches and possessive caresses with a quiet satisfaction.
The thunder rumbled overhead and the blue roan seemed to revel in his new home.
Michaelis
( The Shadow Child )
The thunder was a promise as it hung above the pines, their rolling presence a deep indigo, ebony in places. Both a threat and a promise of storms ahead, storms already in motion. Both from the stormy promise of the Chamber, and her impending rise to glory. And fear. The other, the skies. I was idling in the copse, golden skin strewn against the bark of the pines. Silence, listening solely to the distant beat of the heart beneath the chamber floor. Lost within the broiling heavens above.
Vercingetorix was lost within the pines, lost in a loose term. He had taken to the pines well. The shadows blanketing the backdrop. I listened out for him, hurtling across the gorse floor, however it was not my silver buckskin son, but another, the familiar blue roan from the field. A smooth smile formed upon my lips as I wove my way through the trees, like liquid gold.
'Michaelis.' I say, words falling from smirked lips as soon as I sidle out, merging into the shadows like Canary parchment and blackened ink. 'I recognise that shadow. I take it, the Chamber has acquainted herself?' I say, softly, black magic woven in my lilting voice. 'Storms are brewing. There's always something quite haunting about them, their dark promise.'
ooc: craptastic post as I'm in Costa using their wifi =[
Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
Perhaps it was a silly notion that he would be left unattended within the kingdom. For any of the other residents, he was a complete stranger. But Michaelis knew he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. Why throw himself into a kingdom that couldn’t even guard its borders properly? Even with the obvious storm brewing, the shadow child expected that no outsiders would be allowed to breach any of his home’s fortifications. But he would refrain from voicing his immediate thoughts for now. It was better to observe and learn how he would connect into the cogs and wheels that made the chamber churn.
Mismatched eyes regretfully turn away from his newfound acquaintances to greet his visitor. They were hardly discouraged in their attempts for his sole attention and continued to swirl about his neck and chest like slithering black snakes. It never failed to amuse him – these childishly jealous little things. He willed them back from immediate visibility and with one last loving touch, they shuffled back into some semblance of submission. He doubted they’d remain obedient; their bond was too new and exciting for them to remain in unmoving silence for long.
A delighted smile crossed his face when he recognized his visitor’s silky voice. He hadn’t the chance to truly study her frame earlier. His day blindness did much in the way of obstructing his visual clues in social interactions, but he seemed to appreciate someone’s well-thought and fluid words in return. Which was why his decision had been difficult in the first place – all three headhunters had been quite eloquent in their replies.
“Good day, Engelfors.”
His smile dips into satisfaction at her stated observation. For a kingdom that was supposed to remain nonmagical in the traditional sense, he was vaguely aware that the chamber remained defiant in regards to their aforementioned label. He had overheard many a meadow-dweller tell of the stories of the prowess of the chamber and of those who had given their utmost to her (the beating heart beneath their feet is but physical evidence of such frantic passions for their one true lady).
“Indeed. She is most welcoming. I should probably thank you for the opportunity to be embraced by such an enchanting lady.”
He could be soothed and entertained by these tall pines for many months before his ennui returned. But he hoped that his attentions could be directed towards the inner workings of the kingdom as a whole. Michaelis found kingdom-dwellers, for the most part, to be a fascinating mystery. He had remained a meadow-dweller for the majority of his life. What inspired the fierce loyalties within the chamberlings? The chamber was almost legendary in their urges to do everything and anything for their beloved lady.
“I find them to be signs of change. Perhaps it will be the catalyst for the growth and changes you envision for your lady?”
Michaelis
( The Shadow Child )
even a n g e l s fall There is much about the chamber that spins an alluring spell. The way the inky shadows drape around, like s fine filigree against my good skin. The way the forgotten ash marks the ground, scarred with memories we least forget. Memories of pain, of something quite unforgettable indeed. I can only reminisce alongside the thrum of Atrox's heart. The way the gentle thud kills me to sleep (if only for a few hours, for I was a nocturnal creature, and a creature that thrives on little or no sleep.) the way it acts like some ticking clock, making few remember that there is an end, and a beginning.
I flick my gilt ears in the shadow man's direction, finely curved loves absorbing his words. 'The Chamber can be both an enchantress and a witch, either way she is certainly spellbinding.' my lips curl, dry from ash and the harsh summer sun. I dampen them with a flick of my salmon tongue. 'A stealer of hearts I dare say.'
Michaelis was an observant man, I gave him such scrutiny. He would have not failed to hear the dull thudding underfoot, that increased in tempo the closer you got to the heart, in the deep, dark realm of the woods. Towards the tree, of life, of death and if burning. I had dwelled here long enough to know the nooks and the crannies, the way the bark feels course against feverish skin in summer, and the way the leaves mulch down and sink against fighting hooves come winter. The Chamber was my home, and it delighted me that another could, perhaps, share such a personal thing. The way the chamber spun s spell of whimsy and obsession, and yet retain an unburdened grace.
'There is strength in numbers, I do dare say. However, it is delightful when the strength comes from those worthy. But I am not the lady of the night, that speaks to everyone. The Chamber has a way of claiming one, quite strongly I dare to admit, for she can be a mistress as well as a saviour...' my tone is lilting, a gentle lull upon the stagnant air. Sapphire eyes watch him quietly through the curtain of creamy forelock. 'Is there much to Michaelis, s story to be told, like the scars upon the chamber floor, there is always a tale, somewhere. That is if those are willing to tell...' the smirk broadens across my Ivory and pink lips, eyes lightening as the spires of light dance across, though the boughs of the pine. 'or willing to listen.'
engelsfors
advisor of the chamber
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