The darkness that plagues his mind is devastating and unrelenting, a constant shadow that looms heavy and thick; deep and dark as it forces itself to be seen. It is inescapable, just as the future is for everyone. But the knowing - god, the knowing - tortures him more than he can even admit aloud. Even his family does not know the truth of the darkness that plagues him - not really, not in a way they can understand, much like the silver mare that gleams like starlight beside him. Rhaegor and Warlight might be the only ones who have come close to recognizing the burden he bears, but even then, there is no way he can make the darkness palpable for them. It is still just an entity, an idea, while for Warden it is very much real as it rushes towards him with its own agenda.
Warden’s lips curl unpleasantly into a creasing frown on his handsome face, the wrinkle of his brow creating more shadow to cross his pale skin, the darkness of his eyes sliding slowly towards Aletta’s. “Right,” he replies uncannily with a scoff, “you believe in the stars.” He is bitter in the way he now hangs his head almost lazily, no longer searching the night skies and their silent stars as he remembers their curse upon him. It isn’t Aletta’s fault, of course, and though he is fully conscious of the incredulity and rudeness in his voice and posture, he cannot stop as he unloads broken piece by broken piece of himself onto her.
The stallion tosses his head, inky tendrils of forelock spilling in between the deep blue of his twisting horns, imagining how ironic it would be if a vision came to him now, of Aletta. It’s almost a humorous thought - how fitting - but there is a piece of him, the unbroken part, that hopes he will not see her fate. Her next question, heavy with accusation and clipped with the sharpness of her voice, brings his gaze back to her with a thoughtful expression that quickly turns aloof.
“You don’t understand,” he replies bitterly, his voice grumbling and frustrated. No one ever will. His eyes tightly shut as a rattling sigh shudders from his lips, shaking his head gently. “It’s more than I can bear.” Warden’s chest tightens, creating a thin and weary voice that floats into the nothingness of the air that surrounds them.
“The heart of it?” Warden almost laughs. “There is no heart of it. It’s all a game. A sick, terrible game that brings them entertainment - to give a mere mortal a glimpse into the future, to watch him try to fathom all the death and the destruction of everyone he loves - without giving him the power to stop any of it.” The stallion catches his breath in his throat. “There is no point and that will be the death of me.”
The same silence from before falls between them, groaning and twisting with the weight of his words in the air. It’s full of tension and he wonders if the stars will smite him for speaking his thoughts of them aloud. He nearly prays they will.
Warden finally sighs, closing his eyes momentarily as he shifts his weight on the black of his muscular legs. “I’m done asking,” he admits gently, the terseness that once resided there now fading. “I don’t think I’d like their answer, anyway.”
WARDEN
@[aletta]
wow he does not like being asked to question things LOL
