no matter what they say, I am still the king
There is not much in this world that amazes Him anymore- that makes him wide eyed in glee or wonder (not since he was a boy, perhaps- naive at best). There is nothing unknown, nothing new, nothing stumbled upon like a light in the dark. It is all the same- a dreary stretch of what is, and what is no longer.
Tephra- a place he once founded, a merging of might and power that rose from the depths of the cragged and cracked earth of Beqanna. How long ago had that been? Years? Decades? Eons? Time is a trickle to Him; an innumerable and unmeasurable thing that holds little consequence. And yet, it has come full circle, as the stretching lands of Tephra call to him (though he could never quite call it a home). He ruled here once, when it was one of the few first kingdoms - together they rose, and quietly he stepped away.
He approaches, the lava scorched land hot beneath him, a familiar feeling that isn’t soon forgotten. It is hard to forget a place He had helped forge in fire. His intentions are not malicious, mere interest - a peek at the land he once lived. A tour through his achingly long past; a glimpse at what had grown.
--
Oh you are a beautifully, wickedly hideous thing - an angel trapped in a gollum’s body. He sees you from afar - you are a beacon of light, a white albatross in times of dark. You are brilliantly carefree, at peace in your haven of family and fire. You are bathed in plating of bone, a suit of armor to shade you from the dark of the world (and perhaps that is why you are so glee?)
He watches, silent and benign in the depths of the land. His tendrils of magic rake out, grasping lightly into the universe; yourname yournameyourname. And it comes to him, a deeply sweet taste on his tongue, so sharp it almost makes him twinge-- Wonder.
Curious, you are. So at home in yourself, in the land around you, in the family that adorns you. What would it be like for you to find something more than that? To see something that is not quite so perfect? Wonder. And this time, he sends your name into the universe, instead of drawing it out. It tickles in your ear, a deep and low whisper that is laced with honey. Come wander, Wonder.
And so He waits.
(now, the storm is coming in)