± when you feel my heat, look into my eyes ±
Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket and while it irritated the Magma King, he also could not find the once hurt emotions he had experienced months ago. They had all made their choices, whatever they may be and by those choices they would carry on. The Chamber would carry on and in the end that is what really mattered, that the Chamber continue, as she ever would. Even now as Beqanna grew silent the Chamber burned with warmth from within.
Where Dacia had dug her trench with the use of her brother (because he would not doubt her hand in it all), those holes only opened and begged to be filled. Malis filled them without asking, she poured herself into the King with a graciousness he was afraid he could never display. She bandaged him as thick as a lover’s blood ever could though she spilled not a drop for him in doing so.
Certainly he was to check in on the ties made so long ago, the newness that he had sought and the change he had intended between realms. First was something familiar, something that would come easier than standing statuesque as a young dog growled his younger sisters entitlement. Killdare made for the Valley, another younger, stronger young lady stood herald to the dark shadows and he had not seen her since hearing of the shadow she had become herself. She was a young thing then, mousey and plain for all purposes but he had saved her still. Just because he came from a Kingdom labeled dark did not mean that darkness ruled his soul. could not help but to agree to the potential that stirred within. Really Eight had convinced him of the girl’s potential and he supposed something about magic had led him to know the young girl’s heart without knowing her shell first.
The Valley was strong and word was Topsail was strong too, far stronger than perhaps her sire before her and Killdare was only pleased at the rumor. He made quick of the journey to the shadow kingdom called Valley, liquefying himself for the first time and traveling by ways which most would never dream. It was cool and dark beneath the earth’s surface, quiet too, save for the chorus of his own thoughts. Beneath the ground he could feel the age of the dirt as he passed through it, end over end of swirling, molten passageways. Sometimes that age felt suffocating, heavy with the burdens and destruction wreaked by havok mongers. He found it though, somehow. Something sensed he was there and with a great push he spilled forth from the earth, gushing at the very borders of the Valley into a pooling mass.
His entrance caused a stir, growling figures moving around to stand above and before him, a smokey semblance of the true animal he was all too familiar with. As his body formed together he hissed and spat as he bubbled into place, though he knew he could not harm mere shadows, it was mostly for fun. The dogs growled yet inched back with caution in their alert eyes, and finally Killdare solidified into hard blackened brimstone to loom over the pack. Each spat at his form, smokey black hackles raising ridges along their backside. In return he blew smoke in thick clouds from his lungs, the shape twisting to a serpentine form and snapping it’s great jaws at its shadowy brethren. The dragon unfurled it’s long neck, wrapping around the nearest wolf without so much as asking its consent.
Where Dacia had dug her trench with the use of her brother (because he would not doubt her hand in it all), those holes only opened and begged to be filled. Malis filled them without asking, she poured herself into the King with a graciousness he was afraid he could never display. She bandaged him as thick as a lover’s blood ever could though she spilled not a drop for him in doing so.
Certainly he was to check in on the ties made so long ago, the newness that he had sought and the change he had intended between realms. First was something familiar, something that would come easier than standing statuesque as a young dog growled his younger sisters entitlement. Killdare made for the Valley, another younger, stronger young lady stood herald to the dark shadows and he had not seen her since hearing of the shadow she had become herself. She was a young thing then, mousey and plain for all purposes but he had saved her still. Just because he came from a Kingdom labeled dark did not mean that darkness ruled his soul. could not help but to agree to the potential that stirred within. Really Eight had convinced him of the girl’s potential and he supposed something about magic had led him to know the young girl’s heart without knowing her shell first.
The Valley was strong and word was Topsail was strong too, far stronger than perhaps her sire before her and Killdare was only pleased at the rumor. He made quick of the journey to the shadow kingdom called Valley, liquefying himself for the first time and traveling by ways which most would never dream. It was cool and dark beneath the earth’s surface, quiet too, save for the chorus of his own thoughts. Beneath the ground he could feel the age of the dirt as he passed through it, end over end of swirling, molten passageways. Sometimes that age felt suffocating, heavy with the burdens and destruction wreaked by havok mongers. He found it though, somehow. Something sensed he was there and with a great push he spilled forth from the earth, gushing at the very borders of the Valley into a pooling mass.
His entrance caused a stir, growling figures moving around to stand above and before him, a smokey semblance of the true animal he was all too familiar with. As his body formed together he hissed and spat as he bubbled into place, though he knew he could not harm mere shadows, it was mostly for fun. The dogs growled yet inched back with caution in their alert eyes, and finally Killdare solidified into hard blackened brimstone to loom over the pack. Each spat at his form, smokey black hackles raising ridges along their backside. In return he blew smoke in thick clouds from his lungs, the shape twisting to a serpentine form and snapping it’s great jaws at its shadowy brethren. The dragon unfurled it’s long neck, wrapping around the nearest wolf without so much as asking its consent.
KILLDARE
magma King of the Chamber
