10-11-2017, 08:08 PM
THANA.
(as black as your soul)
You, one of the soulless, destined to stand forever apart from his people – nestled in a collection of bulbous perennials, coiled but blooming beneath the afternoon sun. Magenta and ivory bathed in blood, and even as death consumes you, you fight, foolish boy. Carved of granite, the fine grey sand of your monument flutter away in the forlorn breeze. It is nothing more than an outcropping of stone. Alluring – something desired, but out of reach. None can live up to your name, but none try; all pleasures palled upon me. Arousing expectations, repeatedly disappointed, they lay in your shadow, wilting like a delicate flower – their corpses awash at sea. Failure. It is a terrible thing.
One horse from one land, for one year of Beqanna captivity (2 RL months) in Sylva.
One horse from one land, for one year of Beqanna captivity (2 RL months) in Sylva.