Ramiel is a vessel yet to be filled. He’s unfinished, still-wet clay set aside by the sculptor to age with the seasons. He is young and vibrant and alive at the same time he is brooding and introspective and unyielding. He is a thinker at times, priding himself on all of the knowledge he has gained and lusting for more with his black-hole brain. At other times, he’s a doer, breaking curfew to watch the white-hot sun rise over the northernmost slopes (it comes at the cost of his burning retinas, but both the pain and freedom are satisfying enough in their impermanence). He’s black now; a black that should be a void but is a portal – a black that hides life under an outward funeral shroud. But all too soon he will grey and that will be more fitting.
Then, he’ll settle somewhere along the spectrum like everyone else. He’ll lose his vibrancy, but he’ll settle.
For now, he’s only another boy stuck between the fancies of a child and the plans of a man. He hears the summons from deep within the woods. The voice is oxymoronically commanding and sedative; he is forced into a dream-walk immediately. It feels as if no time has passed, however. In the blink of an eye (two gold-ringed eyes, actually) he finds himself transported. A figure looms over them, but upon closer inspection, the boy sees that it’s only a grey stallion - the source of the call that his very soul still vibrates with, a simple stallion like the one he will eventually be. The command quivers in his ears (though nothing has been spoken), bounces around the lobes of his brain and trembles in his trachea.
The air in his throat seems to heat considerably as it passes the command. Find her. He’s still mulling it over when the others start agreeing. Some of them pause to ask, to chide, to wonder. Ramiel is grateful for the extra time but eventually he runs out of it. When it’s his turn to speak, he shrugs (caught between wanting to help and wanting to help himself; greying every second because he will fall somewhere in between like everyone always does). “Okay.”
r a m i e l
what a day to begin again