"With my speechless calm eyes."
At first he had been delighted that he was able to see again, eager to take in the beauty Beqanna had to offer, but soon after he had become confused and even somewhat afraid. The sudden change had surprised him, as he had never expected his wish to be granted. If he had known that Djinni could grant wishes like a genie he wouldn’t have been this careless with his words. Brynmor wasn’t even sure if he would have wished for eyesight, but if he would’ve done so he would’ve waited till he was prepared for it. Now it had taken him by surprise.
After the first joy he had thought that Miss, or the Mistress, had come back. That she had come back to force him to participate in another of her sick games. That time had been the first time he had been able to see. She had given him a human form – which later was transformed into a werewolf – and in that form he hadn’t been blind. It had been temporary though, probably to serve him during her games, to make sure he would at least be a little ready to face her challenges. He did. But it had only lead him to the point in which he had killed his two companions, he had their blood at his hands. One of them had deserved it, but the first not and Brynmor still felt guilty for giving in to his friend’s convincing words.
That leads to another question. During Missy’s games he had been able to see his friend, he had been his companion when they fled from Jack the Ripper. But Brynmor had also been pretty sure that his wolf form had killed his friend, yet as he had been able to hear his friend speak again after he had come back to Beqanna he had brushed his memories of Missy’s maze off a contained memory. He had honestly believed that his friend was real. Brynmor didn’t know any better than that his friend was always with him, he had been always been there, even in the dark pit of the Chamber he had been kept in. So why would he suddenly start to question his friend’s existence? Well, that time has come now. Now his sight had been restored – although his eyes were still a little odd with a slight glassy look – he had come to realise that the voice only existed in his head. It explained why Djinni had been hesitant of him and he now clearly remembers Shaytan telling him the truth too. He just hadn’t been willing to believe her, but now he knew better.
It creates opportunities. He no longer feels like that Gryffen is pulling his strings, that Gryffen is deciding his one and every move. No. Finally, finally he could start to become the puppeteer of his own life. And the first step in doing so was to talk to Hurricane. Even though he was pretty sure that the Tundra king wouldn’t like the truth about Brynmor’s arrival at the Brotherhood kingdom, yet it was the only way. He liked to believe that the other male would see his loyalty and that he was eager to fight for the Tundra. Heck. To prove it he would even enter the caves right now and then if Hurricane would ask it of him. That didn’t mean he hoped that things would go to that far. But Brynmor did feel like that Hurricane deserved to know the truth. All of it.
”Hurricane” he greets the gray, winged man. It was the first time for in to take in the other male and he let his eyes wander across him shamelessly. They shared the same coat color, yet Hurricane’s had already totally grayed out, where his own still showed some gray. But unlike him Hurricane supported a set of wings. Brynmor’s bluish white eyes meet his king’s gaze, the look in his gaze serious, yet a small smile plays with the corners of his lips. ”There is something I wish to share with you” he continued to clarify his sudden approach. He didn’t mean the fact that he could see, Brynmor was sure that the king could notice that himself, no, he wanted to speak about the more important matters.
"Nothing is coming to rise."