YADIGAR
there’s a hole in my chest but it’s mine, baby, it’s all i got.
His gaze drifts to Straia when she declares that Draco is telling the truth. She has never struck Yadigar as someone who has time for silly tests of loyalty or mind games, and so his heart begins to sink into the depth of his stomach. He takes a step back from them all. His chest grows tight. The once heir turns his head to the wall she gestures toward, toward the unyielding flame bursting from an etching of a dragon. Time passes quickly and yet the seconds are eternities he cannot bear.
His jaw moves as he struggles to find words until Straia lets her own thoughts bleed into his mind. “I-I don’t.. I don’t know,” he chokes, gasping now as he tries to find some kind of sense in the mess of his life now. He watches Anaxarete’s approach with some kind of hope that she would not let his father remain dead for long. But she offers no sort of kindness or cruelty, choosing instead to let the dead remain in their tombs. They all know the dragon king would not return willingly, yet the hope lingered strangely in the back of his throat.
Yadigar winces when her shadows first coil around his heart. It feels strange, for the inferno of his lament to suffocate so quickly and leave him hollowed out. Was this strength, as she said? Was it peace if he did not consume his anguish as it consumed him? The questions come spilling out with a dozen others, though no answers are found among them.
Only silence.
Silence and the endless winter night of his heart.
“I need to be alone.. to think,” he finally mumbles as he takes a step back from the gathering of his loved ones. Then, he spreads his wings and takes flight despite the protestation of his tired muscles.
His jaw moves as he struggles to find words until Straia lets her own thoughts bleed into his mind. “I-I don’t.. I don’t know,” he chokes, gasping now as he tries to find some kind of sense in the mess of his life now. He watches Anaxarete’s approach with some kind of hope that she would not let his father remain dead for long. But she offers no sort of kindness or cruelty, choosing instead to let the dead remain in their tombs. They all know the dragon king would not return willingly, yet the hope lingered strangely in the back of his throat.
Yadigar winces when her shadows first coil around his heart. It feels strange, for the inferno of his lament to suffocate so quickly and leave him hollowed out. Was this strength, as she said? Was it peace if he did not consume his anguish as it consumed him? The questions come spilling out with a dozen others, though no answers are found among them.
Only silence.
Silence and the endless winter night of his heart.
“I need to be alone.. to think,” he finally mumbles as he takes a step back from the gathering of his loved ones. Then, he spreads his wings and takes flight despite the protestation of his tired muscles.
@[Anaxarete] @[Straia] @[draco] @[Beyza]