gaza
He’s never thought about dying, but the young are always invincible in their own minds, aren’t they? The roar with the strength of a thousand lions, and the world quivers before the open-ended amount of possibilities within them. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to be, especially for a prince? An ex-prince, but semantics are semantics. A child to was raised with the world as their shucked oyster. Open to the half-shell, dotted with a bit of vinegar or wasabi or cocktail sauce… and why not all three? The youth have the stomach for anything and everything.
Not Gaza. Immortality is just a word to him; a word without real meaning, though given enough time, he will soon come to learn its advantages and downfalls.
One day, he might stroke someone’s mane as they die. He might witness the light leave a lover’s eyes, and wish they he could go gently into that good night alongside her. One day he might stand beside the body of a child, or wonder where they have wandered off to - as so many Beqannians seem to do. One day, he might know the meaning of death beyond what it is to outlive one’s parents, as children are supposed to do. He will die in his dreams, and he will wish to die, and he might pray to die - but Gaza will not. And so in that and only that, the silver mare and the black stallion are alike.
In everything else, they are the complete opposite, the two faces of Janus or borderline comedy and tragedy. He, even with his precursory exposure to death and pain and loss, could not stand to hold an iota of experience to hers. However, Gaza is more like his mother than his father, and that leaden otherworldly woe cannot be ignored. He could, of course, but he won’t. Instead, he might accidentally insert himself into a broken fairytale - the one where the evil witch is actually the skeleton king of the land, and Gaza is no more than a fly to be swatted if it irritates him too much.
Gaza does not know Him, so he cannot fear Him. And he cannot understand, but he will make the effort nonetheless. Because that is what Vanquish would do, and that is what Yael would do, and because he is a man without purpose.
Men without purpose can either be devilishly handsome and roguish, or terribly naive and philanthropic.
Alone, and with a sweetness and gentility that betrays everything about him at the moment, Gaza approaches the silver statue from the side - as quietly and non-threateningly as a half-draft stallion is able. “I’m sorry to bother you, but.... are you alright? You haven’t moved in ages.”
vanquish x yael