Beautiful days; Any,

[Charlemagne]

Charlemagne

TOUCH MY OWN SKIN
AND HOPE THAT IM STILL BREATHING

What did you lose?

So much. Oh, so much. Carli’s love of her throne, her power—her daughter and her dead lover… it was all gone. And it all played before her like an erotic dance that the magician played. She was caught in a trance, almost. Moving of her own begotten will. She had held secrets close to her breast, clutching it like so many pearls. And yet, in the state that she was in—even as she felt like she was drowning in her own brain, the golden canary flapped her wings, and pushed back from Djinni, as if trying to claw her way to freedom. To safety.

To anything.

“Magic” was the word that tumbled out of her mouth. So rushed and harried. So unlike her. “I wish so badly that I had my magic back.” And she closed her eyes and stepped towards Djinni, fully aware that she was giving herself over to someone else like her. An enveloping embrace that only power can bring.

She was weak. In the end, she gave in. She always does.

And the scent of Stillwater is carried away into the wind, as Charlemagne’s reality became blurred in a haze of intoxicating power that she herself was aware of, but too physically weak to beat.

Her black leather boots trembled in anticipation, silky black tresses fell in front of her face, hiding her golden eyes. She longed for freedom. And she longed for power.

You learned a long time ago, Carli girl. You cannot have both.

I HAD A WAY THEN LOSING IT ALL ON MY OWN
I HAD A HEART THEN BUT THEN QUEEN HAS BEEN OVERTHROWN

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