11-11-2019, 11:05 AM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
Castile tries to fathom the level of difficulty placed on Lepis’ shoulders when she confesses everything to him. Born and raised as a princess, ruled as a Queen. The life that has been laid out for her was prideful. He cannot help to wonder if she ever needed to apologize for anything up until these last couple of years, but of course, he doesn’t ask. Attentively – curiously – he listens and occasionally narrows his eyes in silent contemplation. Occasionally, a breath catches in his throat and floods him with a level of uncertainty that renews his brooding silence. Lepis needs not project her emotions on him to sense the tangible pain that radiates from her skin, and the frustration of their quarrel.
There’s a fleeting consideration to brighten her mood with humor, but the idea dies before it can even reach his tongue. He swallows it down with another lungful of air and rolls his gaze briefly away from her to note the rustling trees overhead. Fire churns in his gut, wanting desperately to finally be uncaged. It wants release on those that have brought suffering to his niece, to those that stand in the way of her happiness.
But it would do no good. It would spiral uncontrollably and they would all find themselves at a loss.
A flash of his scales ripples across his body – another indication that slowly, agonizingly so, his magic is returning to his veins. It’s easy to miss, just a flicker of a second that leaves him once again bare.
”What did he do to make you yell, to argue?” Although Castile realizes the imperfections of his niece, his mind cannot help to imagine the greater contribution stemming from Wolfbane. It must have been him. Lepis has only wanted what’s best for her family, but their enemies see something different entirely. They see warmongers and conquerors in their path, while he and his niece see strength in family and friends.
Except, now, Castile nearly laughs at the idea of friends. They do not truly exist, it seems.
Shifting beneath the mounting strength of Lepis’ voice, he understands the dismissal inching closer to her lips. It’s not unkind, but a firm confirmation that she will bring her answer to Loess’ doorstep. Nodding his head, Castile acquiesces. ”Good luck, Lepis. I think you will need it,” a breath sighs slowly from his lungs just as he reaches forward to press his lips to her forehead. It isn’t a gesture of lovers, but still affection – a gesture that has lasted through the years above all others. ”I’ll always be here for you,” his skin is frigid where it had been touching her as he slowly withdraws and turns away, disappearing into the shadows back to Loess.
There’s a fleeting consideration to brighten her mood with humor, but the idea dies before it can even reach his tongue. He swallows it down with another lungful of air and rolls his gaze briefly away from her to note the rustling trees overhead. Fire churns in his gut, wanting desperately to finally be uncaged. It wants release on those that have brought suffering to his niece, to those that stand in the way of her happiness.
But it would do no good. It would spiral uncontrollably and they would all find themselves at a loss.
A flash of his scales ripples across his body – another indication that slowly, agonizingly so, his magic is returning to his veins. It’s easy to miss, just a flicker of a second that leaves him once again bare.
”What did he do to make you yell, to argue?” Although Castile realizes the imperfections of his niece, his mind cannot help to imagine the greater contribution stemming from Wolfbane. It must have been him. Lepis has only wanted what’s best for her family, but their enemies see something different entirely. They see warmongers and conquerors in their path, while he and his niece see strength in family and friends.
Except, now, Castile nearly laughs at the idea of friends. They do not truly exist, it seems.
Shifting beneath the mounting strength of Lepis’ voice, he understands the dismissal inching closer to her lips. It’s not unkind, but a firm confirmation that she will bring her answer to Loess’ doorstep. Nodding his head, Castile acquiesces. ”Good luck, Lepis. I think you will need it,” a breath sighs slowly from his lungs just as he reaches forward to press his lips to her forehead. It isn’t a gesture of lovers, but still affection – a gesture that has lasted through the years above all others. ”I’ll always be here for you,” his skin is frigid where it had been touching her as he slowly withdraws and turns away, disappearing into the shadows back to Loess.
castile
@[Lepis]