| He has been described many things in his life—king, murderer, selfish, sinner, and devil. All of these names meant very little to him, but truly each one of them ties to something he had once been and even continues to be. Yet, he had never been called a colorful cobra. In a sense he was a snake in the grass—patiently waiting to strike and feast upon the prey. “I know little about the other lands,” he admits truthfully. It was not valuable information knowing he knew little about the other lands that now sat upon the old world. “I am sure they are much prettier than what we live in.” Rodrik can only imagine what beauty must have replaced the Jungle and the Chamber. “Perhaps one day I will see these new lands.” But, for now, today would not be that day. “Though surely it should be soon enough—peace is never a lasting thing in Beqanna.” No, it never was, he thinks to himself as images of war and thirst for power color his mind. Rodrik falls silent, though he keeps his attention on her. She furrows her brow in consideration and he allows her to think through her answers to his questions. Then suddenly, he feels his skin becoming warm. It spreads through his skin like wildfire and becomes very painful quickly. Rodrik pulls back from her and quickly shouts, “What is this?!” He narrows his eyes at her, fear feeling his stomach but he does not show it. The girl’s eyes widen and she too takes a step back. Her voice is breathless and notices she is obviously confused. Rodrik no longer feels the painful bumps and the sudden warmth leaves him cold now. He shakes his head, though keeping his gaze on the scaled girl. “You bring sickness and death,” he says bluntly. A power that he one would have liked to hold but he knows what a price of such power must pay. He had given his life; no his life had been taken from him for such abilities. “You can’t—” he pauses for a moment, trying to find words, “You can’t get angry like that.” And then he falls silent. “I see why your family is afraid of you,” Rodrik looks at her carefully this time and meets her gaze, “You could destroy the whole world if you wanted.” He knows what such a sickness could do—a plague was no stranger to Rodrik and the soul that harbored his body. He knew of such sickness that had killed thousands and thousands of others before. “But you shouldn’t be afraid.” He says, truthfully he did not want the girl to fear herself just as he had once feared himself too. “All you need is a little practice.” But, he wonders, how does anyone practice harboring the very power of sickness and death? It nearly was not the same for the poison he controlled—but perhaps similar to the powers and hunger had once had for the dead and darkness. |
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