my shadow tilts its head at me,
spirits in the dark are waiting.
In truth, he is so much older than he looks. Not really in the way he acts, but simply in the number of lives he’s lived. Four or five now, was it? Life in Beqanna as a child, his kingdom with the crow, the place in which Beqanna burned, his momentary glimpse of space, and then back again to Beqanna. He’s not entirely sure if his life in Beqanna counts as two or one. Beqanna had not changed, but he had.
She teases him, and he cracks something of a grin, though it’s fake. He’s never been much for acting. What happened? is a loaded question with him. The better question is What didn’t happen? Sunshine and rainbows. That’s what didn’t happen, will never happen. Not for him. Especially not now, a creature of shadow. He’d thought of living in other lands, but none have as many shadows as the Valley does, and he cannot live in the sun.
If he were Tytos, he’d have some witty comment about how he’d grown big and still cute. Tytos was the ladies man, the debonair type. At least that’s the picture in Rhonan’s mind, but it’s been too many lifetimes since he’s seen his brother to even know if that picture is true anymore. If it ever was true. Instead, in answer, he pulls the shadows from his feet until they cover him, solidifying into the black coat he wears more often than not. After all, he’s always hated being a pretty pretty princess.
“That,” he says, as if it explains everything. And to him, it does. He’s never been much for words. He’s more like father in this respect than he’ll ever know. He can’t really imagine actually putting into words where he’s been, what he’s seen. Can’t tell anyone that Noah still lingers in her peripheral vision, when there’s no one else around. They’d all think he’s bat shit crazy. And hell, maybe he is.
She asks of Thorunn, and Rhonan nods. He’d only figured it out later, that they were related. Why? Because he’s a dumbass. Because he’s rather slow on the uptake with this sort of stuff. And besides, he’d spent more time running away from his family than learning about them. “Briefly. She talks less than I do,” and he does manage something of an amused smile now, starting to have a brain and drawing a few conclusions.
Nayl tells him that he hasn’t seen Tytos, and Rhonan can’t help but imagine his body burned to a crisp somewhere, a remnant from his lives or dreams or whatever they were. The demon said it had all been real. Rhonan still couldn’t decide. Maybe Tytos had fallen into the world when Beqanna burned, and never escaped. Their Mother, however, was alive. For now. He is really hurt when she says that their mother is dying though. Not because he doesn’t love his mother, in his rather lackluster way. Rather, he’d already lived through Myrina dying once. It won’t be so hard the second time.
Nayl’s voice lacks compassion, and though Rhonan and Nayl have never been overly close, even he knows it’s a show. It’s just how Nayl is. She’s close to their Mother in a way he certainly isn’t, and he knows the hole in his heart that formed the first time she died, and he knows it will happen again. For both of them. Even if neither of them show it. But he can’t tell Nayl any of this, because in her life, their Mother has never died.
“I suppose I should visit. I’m a little concerned she’ll wrap vines around my legs and never let me go,” he says, attempting to make a joke. It’s not the best, but it’s the best he can manage. But thankfully, Nayl switches topics too, asking him about the girls. And now he really does laugh, an unused rasp to that laugh, because it is rare. Tytos was the ladies man, not Rhonan. Rhonan is unimpressive at best, all black now as well, with muddy brown eyes and that strange orange ring. Girls have never looked at him like they do Tytos, and he’s never really looked at them either.
But of course, she’s not entirely wrong. “Other shadows, like me.” Rhynn is very much like him. They share a similar power, though he actually thinks he might be more powerful than she is. His trait comes with an understanding that hers does not, and eventually, when that understanding breaks all the way through his thick skull, he thinks he’ll be rather limitless with his particular trait. And then there’s Ana, the girl literally made of shadows. He could use her as a puppet, not that he ever would. She was far more entertaining on her own.
But the two of them both dragged him deeper into the darkness. Each in their own ways, but they pulled him closer and closer to the shadows. Eventually, he knows there will be no coming back from them, but he doesn’t want to come back. He wants to let the shadows consume him. “Guess you’ll just have to visit then, sis.” Not that he would ever care if she approved of them or not. Doubtful anyone would approve of the company he kept. But of course, no matter how far down he goes, Nayl will always be his sister, and he will never forget that.
rhonan.
um, holy burst of muse....sorry for that book