07-19-2015, 05:14 PM
That everything good is happening somewhere else?
The laughter does not wake me. Nor do the ravens; no, their pretty flashes of fire, ice, light, and dark do not phase me. The whirl of air created by the barreling of a giant through the young pine-trees does not cause my ears to prick in curiosity. The sizzling of sparks and rising of smoke does not tear me from my slumber.
Perhaps nothing could rouse me in this darkest of nights, save the sudden feeling. The sudden comprehension. I am not woken by noise, movement, or scent, but rather, the beginning of true awareness. Beneath the oppressing blackness, two amber lights are illuminated. They watch the flickering of magical wings, wings untamed. And though they do not see who controls them (or rather who does not), I feel her. Straia. The ravens are of her, and I know it.
Why do I know it?
I arrive last to the scene, heralding the sunrise with me. Gold light flickers against my gold skin and my amber eyes. Grimly, I look towards my niece. She breathes exaltation. I look towards Killdare; he feels muddled. I squint, but these things are wonders not of the world, but of the mind. With slight frustration, I look to my oddly coloured great nephew, and he simply sparks. He feels hot.
“Oh, yes.”
In difference to the dawn, midnight begins stretching from the tip of my noise to the ends of my tail. Stars glimmer in the void of my pelt, as though one could walk in and forever be trapped within the endless space.
I am a galaxy.
”Different,” I grin darkly, twisting my head until my eyes, like two suns against the universe of my skin, meet Erebor's. “Yes… But in our favour.”