10-14-2021, 03:34 PM
Savior
Here is a thing he is not accustomed to: confusion.
He has always known his purpose laid in protecting Tephra. And he had failed to do that when Gale had taken up the throne, shrouding his home in nightmares.
He had gone to the magician then, though there appeared to be nothing any of them could do to combat this specific darkness. There had always been some reprieve in her company, though, the plant magician so like his own mother. (Though it had never occurred to him to look at her as a mother figure when she had only ever been his friend.)
In the peace that had followed Gale’s departure there had been a kind of peace. And now.
Now it feels like things have been disrupted as if by some great upheaval. The throne stands empty and he does not consider himself powerful enough to take up the helm. He had been born a soldier, not a ruler.
He wanders now, aimless, rootless. He will always remain here in Tephra, the only place he has ever called home, the place where his magic is tethered.
But he finds her, Isilya, just as he had intended to. And he smiles when he sees her, as he always has. He draws in a long breath and glances around the landscape that unfurls around them before he speaks.
“What will we do now, Isilya?” he asks, as if she holds all of the answers. Answers that he might never catch a glimpse of.
He has always known his purpose laid in protecting Tephra. And he had failed to do that when Gale had taken up the throne, shrouding his home in nightmares.
He had gone to the magician then, though there appeared to be nothing any of them could do to combat this specific darkness. There had always been some reprieve in her company, though, the plant magician so like his own mother. (Though it had never occurred to him to look at her as a mother figure when she had only ever been his friend.)
In the peace that had followed Gale’s departure there had been a kind of peace. And now.
Now it feels like things have been disrupted as if by some great upheaval. The throne stands empty and he does not consider himself powerful enough to take up the helm. He had been born a soldier, not a ruler.
He wanders now, aimless, rootless. He will always remain here in Tephra, the only place he has ever called home, the place where his magic is tethered.
But he finds her, Isilya, just as he had intended to. And he smiles when he sees her, as he always has. He draws in a long breath and glances around the landscape that unfurls around them before he speaks.
“What will we do now, Isilya?” he asks, as if she holds all of the answers. Answers that he might never catch a glimpse of.
YOU REMIND ME WHO I WAS AND WHO I WANT TO BE
YOU REMIND ME THOUGH NOT WHOLE, I’M NOT EMPTY
YOU REMIND ME THOUGH NOT WHOLE, I’M NOT EMPTY