I love the way that your heart breaks
with every injustice and deadly fate.
What might be terrifying to others is wonderful to him. Were he to know that they had been made and re-made within the same space, the same cavern, the same cells, he would have been awestruck. For a creature whose emotions run a very short gamut between bored and impassive, that is just shy of impressive. But what he feels for Her and Him is nearly indescribable. Certainly, even if it could be described, few would likely wish to hear it.
But unlike so many (unlike her), he had reveled in his torment. Had glutted upon the punishment until he could drink no more. Until his body had given out and his mind had shattered. He had become His plaything in truth, a willing (indeed, even eager) puppet for him to create with. To tear apart and re-stitch together in new and terrible ways.
He understands, probably more than most, just how impermanent such a thing is. Knows just how easily one can lose what one has gained. He has become a teacher in his own right, understanding the pain and failure and heartbreak when a pupil is found unworthy. Perhaps there are those that would argue, but he is not unkind. He releases those who cannot (will not) learn. Only, it is not always back into life that he releases them. He had learned, long ago, that death is far more a release than is life.
Life is pain, after all.
Raelynx, she says, his name upon her lips evoking a sudden shiver. His dull gray gaze seeks out hers, willing her to stay. Willing her to see, to know what glories she had wrought. ”You remember me, he says in that rough voice of his. A voice forever turned to sandpaper because of her.
He should thank her for that.
And so he does.
”Thank you.”
Raelynx
khaos x eyrie