03-12-2016, 01:30 AM
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.
The shadows have not always been a part of him. It wasn’t until that horrible quest that involved the giant fairies which changed him. His senses sharpened and enhanced themselves and suddenly he could see the opaque shadow cirrus wrapping lovingly about his body. But they instinctively felt right and they often blended together into one entity. The other hindrance he had was whenever his eyes were left in sunlight, he developed awful headaches and his eyes hurt tremendously. In order to fully accept his foray into the darkness, he supposed his dayblindness was one small price to pay even though it remained a terrible nuisance.
Michaelis remained untouched by a troublesome past or a conflicting heart. His father had served in a kingdom but his mother had lived in the meadow. He was a wanderer at heart - not interested in petty kingdom politics or making a name for himself. Instead he opted in surrounding himself with troubled souls or successful people. He liked the company and the knowledge that perhaps he had the chance at polishing them up until they shown golden once again.
He was the one meant to live behinds the scenes, in the shadows where he belonged, while he watched as his treasures shone brilliantly in the sunlight where they could be appreciated and admired.
A deep voice cuts through the night noises of the forest and mismatched eyes (an inheritance from his mother) meet unusual red ones. His words, though soft, are easily picked up by his extremely sensitive ears. As the shadow child draws near, the tendrils swirl about violently, angry that their night walk was to be disturbed. They attempt to engulf their chosen one, yet Michaelis snaps at their poor attempts of concealment. They quieten down in response and return to swirling about in tense, choppy movements.
They were absolutely exasperating at times.
A friendly smile and inquisitive eyes are flashed to the stranger. It’s been awhile since his interest had been peaked and he briefly wondered if this stranger fit his criteria. He was certainly tall, for one. He practically dwarfed Michaelis’ petite yet stocky mustang build. But the shadow child wasn’t particularly interested in one’s physical strength. He preferred the inner layers over the outer any day. He wanted to know what made a person – a brilliant mind, a reckless abandon, a thirst for knowledge, a child-like curiosity, or a ruthless ambition. He was a avid collector whose interest was piqued by a multitude of things.
A dragon couldn’t explain why it chose emeralds over diamonds to place in its hoard.
It was driven by instinct and an innate sense of self.
“You’d be surprised how often I’ve been told that.”
He chuckles in amusement for it seems the only striking thing about himself were the surrounding shadow tendrils. Or so it seemed that’s what first drew others to him.
“Michaelis,” he introduces himself delightedly.
( The Shadow Child )