we are aching bones and wasted years; exemplary

[magnus]

you and I both know that the house is haunted
and you and I both know that the ghost is me

“Not knowing does not have to be scary,” he muses, as he looks around them, considering the branches of the trees swaying in the wind and the distant chatter of horses reduced to nothing more than the rumblings of a tide. “There is excitement in the unknown because there is possibility. It is a chance to write your own destiny, to mold your own future. The unknown is nothing more than a welcoming opportunity.”

Magnus would much prefer the great unknown to the written in stone of prophets. He had railed against the heavens before for his fate, and he would prefer to master of his own destiny. Captain of his own ship even if he splintered it against the shallow rocks. “New introduced me to you, and that is definitely a good thing,” he counters with a friendly glint in his golden gaze. “But it was also the unknown. When I woke up this morning, I had no idea what the day would hold—and it turns out that it would hold you.”

It was easy to enjoy conversation with her. It was easy to fall into the stimulating talk, her eyes bright and her smile cheery. When she prompts him of his stories, he can only laugh, rolling his scarred shoulders. “How unfair of me.” Indeed, he had stories—stories of beneath the ocean waves and at the height of mountains. Stories of love and loss and cruelty and mistakes. Stories of redemption and bloodshed. Not all were stories he reveled in telling, but he had no reason to hide any of them from her.

“Would you like to hear stories from this life or my last?” There is a twinkle in his eye at this question, as he relaxes even further. It did not appear that he would be going anywhere anytime soon.

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.