As the day breaks and the earth quakes - Corvus

.Corvus.

(yes, I am alone)
but then again, I always was. as far back as I can tell.

His youth had slipped away from him; gone with every deep carving his brother and mother had made with the jagged edge of their betrayal. Filled with loathing and resentment at an early age, he never clung onto wistful fantasies, nor unrealistic expectations. He learned life was simply unfair, wrought with despair, and rife with duplicity and treachery. When his mother abandoned any semblance of a bond with him, consumed with herself and whatever wild fancy she held, he had felt the last thread of detachment envelope his heart, and harden it. He had no patience, nor time for blood – it had been soiled, heavy with sediment and laced with arsenic, and he was not foolish enough to drink the poison of his upbringing.

Alas, time has a way of healing all – and slowly, his heart began to mend in the absence of the hatred and disappoint that had all but devoured him in his youth. No longer faced with the constant stare of dismay from his mother, nor confronted by the taunting jests of his brother permitted Corvus to come into his own. Still quiet, ever silent, but .. almost peaceful. Almost serene. If not for the nightmares.

The morning sun is gentle across the edge of the horizon, bathing the valley in a splendor of color that does dance across the pristine, crystalline surface of the lake. His mind is lost to the beauty of it, content to simply be while the dark emerald feathers flutter across the surface of each tucked wing with a gale born from his own desire. The wind is unruly, tangling itself through the darkness of his haphazard tresses, swept away from the bright hazel of his gaze – staring out, still, motionless.

When the soft cadence of a voice interrupts his reverie, he is startled, eyes wide as the broadness of his masculine physique jerks, though a quiet (though slightly embarrassed) laugh emerges from the viridian of his lips. ”I didn’t hear you,” he murmurs, as the air is instantly still – the heavy wind he conjured from nothing at all suddenly sucked back into his chest, and there is no longer any wind to speak of. ”you startled me, Solace,” he chides, though purely in jest, as the uptick of a faint smile at the corner of his mouth betrays his humor.

”No need to thank me,” he says with a shake of his head, as knotted and dreadlocked pieces of his mane fall in the way of his eyes, boring into her own. She is soft, feminine, and yet distinctly pure – he can see why she was chosen; she would carry the heart of Hyaline as carefully and as devotedly as Amet had. ”I meant what I said, too. You will – and do make for a wonderful Queen.”

And then she is beside him, but he is watchful of her still, despite the gleam of sunlight across the stillness of the water that tries to lure his attention away. He wishes he could melt the tension away from his coiled muscle (he wishes he could open up; he wishes he could have a friend), and he wishes she would not hide behind the façade of a Queen.

”Unification,” he says after a moment of thought. ”there are times in which it feels there is no connection to either side of our governance. The war and peace branches should meet, with you, and with each other. For Hyaline to stand tall, it should stand united within itself, as it does with its allies.”

I think maybe it's because you were never really real to begin with.
(I just made you up to hurt myself)