01-03-2017, 01:35 PM
no matter what they say, I am still the king
Eight was never one to make friends – with or without words. He was a mostly solitary creature – although he would speak when needed and make acquaintances when necessary. How strange that a man who had been king too many times, who had started wars, who had done so much – simply preferred silence and solitude. Was it a waste? Perhaps to you, Aranea – to a woman who so vehemently wanted a voice, who is trapped in a prison with bars that cannot be broken. And here is Eight, a man with the world at his fingertips, but no desire to use them.
He had always been known to disappear – he would make waves, and then submerge himself under the surface. He would rise again, years down the road – foam frothing on his body and waves reaching high above him; but everyone knew it was only temporary. It was only to create a storm and slink back away again. The real world could never hold his interest for long.
He stands quietly at the fringes of the heart of Tephra – a land he helped create, a land he had no desire to rule. His dark body blends in with the swiftly setting winter sun, a land cloaked in silence and fortitude. You appear from the tree line, almost sullen in your movements (but then again, who could blame you). A flicker of a smirk alights on Eight’s face as he catches your movements, and he slowly appears by your side.
“A lonely life to live, trapped in silence.” It is not a question – as he had been in your head, he had given you a voice before. “I had hoped the other magicians of the land may have been able to help you.” It was an apology, almost, for leaving when you may have needed him most.
He had always been known to disappear – he would make waves, and then submerge himself under the surface. He would rise again, years down the road – foam frothing on his body and waves reaching high above him; but everyone knew it was only temporary. It was only to create a storm and slink back away again. The real world could never hold his interest for long.
He stands quietly at the fringes of the heart of Tephra – a land he helped create, a land he had no desire to rule. His dark body blends in with the swiftly setting winter sun, a land cloaked in silence and fortitude. You appear from the tree line, almost sullen in your movements (but then again, who could blame you). A flicker of a smirk alights on Eight’s face as he catches your movements, and he slowly appears by your side.
“A lonely life to live, trapped in silence.” It is not a question – as he had been in your head, he had given you a voice before. “I had hoped the other magicians of the land may have been able to help you.” It was an apology, almost, for leaving when you may have needed him most.
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in