01-07-2021, 09:49 PM
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.
Michaelis has had the vague thought that perhaps those fairies from long ago had known that this eclipse would be occurring in the future.
He had been reshaped and molded and gifted (cursed?) his ability without too much fuss from his end – he always landed on his feet after all. But his relationship to the shadows and his adaptations for living amongst the darkness had suddenly given him a huge advantage now that the whole of Beqanna had been plunged into a never-ending night. He possessed both enhanced hearing and sight which helped him easily cut through the shadows and navigate the familiar terrain of the meadow. The shadow child, of course, continued to have his tendrils gleefully accompany him through this unnatural night for their tangibility did not have to lesson when sunrise approached. Their writhing presence only further served to diminish the roaning of his coat and seamlessly blend his compact frame into the unnatural darkness.
The eclipse had been startling at first, an oddity to be observed through a surprised gaze. The sky had become muddled, with but a tiny sliver of light barely piercing through the thick cloud cover to guide the residents through the cloaking darkness that had menacingly settled upon the land. By now the shadow child had lived through many of the unnatural and magical disasters that occurred throughout this wild and untamed land. He has seen kingdoms rise and fall, whole sections of earth disappear overnight, ever-changing landscapes, and wars waged.
Although he had observed and experienced these things – he had always been a bystander.
He preferred to stay out of the limelight when it came to these dramas and tragedies that often played out. But Michaelis certainly enjoyed observing the key actors to these scenes. They possessed power in many different ways and he liked to see how they would wield it.
It was invigorating.
It was thrilling.
It was seductive.
Especially if he had had a hand in it.
Michaelis was a collector of sorts; he wanted to hoard and possess and protect those that caught his interest. He was a raven - in search of shiny trinkets and smooth stones and bits of wildflowers and feathers to put in his comfy nest and attentively polish and shine until they became the envy of others. These treasures would shine independently, while he carefully wiled away in the background and gave them a firm foundation and support from beneath.
The meadow seemed almost deserted whilst the shadow child calmly strolled through the small copses of trees that stood alongside the clearing. Tall grasses brushed the underside of his belly while his shadow tendrils fondly brushed about his neck and sides. They had settled away from his face for the time being, giving him the opportunity to observe his surroundings with sharp mismatched eyes.
( The Shadow Child )