I love the way that your heart breaks
with every injustice and deadly fate.
Against his will, he had been freed. There is little he had wanted more than to stay behind, to learn the true meaning of life. But that had been denied to him. He does not know how, or if, he would ever return. And it is heart wrenching. Beautifully, achingly heart wrenching.
He has been made anew by the fire, the old replaced, burned away like a layer of grease. Many would consider him ugly. He is. He has become a monster in nearly every sense of the word. His scraggly coat and unkempt tresses had been lost, his flesh becoming peeled and charred. He has healed now, leaving only horrendously disfigured naked black skin behind. His muscle had burned away upon his shoulder, leaving divots in his flesh. Three long scars decorate his rump, a remnant of the fiery whip that had flayed him with flame. His ears are but rounded nubs upon his head, swiveling in a macabre imitation of the graceful shells that had once adorned his skull as he listens to the noises around him.
Oh, but he is glorious. Few would see it, but those who did, they would understand. He had been remade in flames. So much so that the flames had become a part of him. He would forever carry that fiery pelt upon his skin. And though the last time the fire had spread across his skin it had devoured everything it had touched, this fire protects, licking his charred skin with a delicate heat, caressing him as a long lost lover might. His cracked lips stretch into a smile, a horrific smile, but a true one. He would never be allowed to forget. The thought sends a shiver of delight across his ruined flesh.
He is here because he remembers them. They had met all those many months ago, his brothers and sister. Likely they would not recognize him. He has changed so much. But he would remind them. Oh yes, he would. And they would never forget again. Just as he shall never forget, neither shall they.
The only piece of his body that is still the same, largely untouched, are his eyes. Those bland gray eyes, that insipid stare. He has come into the land easily enough, has found the statue, with its cold silver eyes staring out to sea. His father he knows. That dull gaze stares at the frozen stallion as living flame twists and winds around his scarred frame. He wonders then, would his father be proud of him?
Raelynx
khaos x eyrie