ALL KINGDOM

[Offspring]

lend me your hand and we'll conquer them all.
but lend me your heart and i'll just let you fall.

   It is the warmth that lures him from the shadows, bathing his marred flesh in the bright sunlight that shines across the drying terrain. The brush is growing brittle and the blossoms are beginning to fade; the land is settling in for what will be another long embrace of ice and snow and he himself can feel it settling into the pit of his bones. His muscles flex slightly beneath his obsidian pelt as he strides forward, stretching the aching muscles of his limbs, which had been still too long for his own liking. With a toss of his tangled, dread-locked mane, his dark eyes peer across the terrain as his lungs fill with the crisp, biting air of autumn. It has not yet moved into the land, but it is within the dying and splitting brush and waning dusk and dawn that he can feel it coming. It is only a matter of time.

   He can hear him with such intense clarity, and without a second thought, he motions towards the call. His sinewy tendons shift and twist under his taut skin as the bright light of the sky cloaks him in a sheen of illumination; his pale skin scars glisten beneath it. This day has been coming for some time, though he had been uncertain of when and had not desired to press the matter. He knew it would come to pass in its own time, and when Hurricane was prepared to make the motion. He had grown a fondness and respect for the alabaster brother, having observed him and remained in his presence for some time. He trusted his instincts, and he followed his lead.

   He slowed his canter as he approached the winged beast, his head lowered momentarily as a sign of respect as he approaches. Once settled and standing still, he raises his thick neck, overlooking the terrain as their few but immensely strong brothers (and the few ladies that linger among them) step forward to heed the call. His crimson eyes meet with Hurricane as he speaks, listening intently and nodding solemnly with his words. His gaze then moves towards the grand ruins that loom behind him, daunting and threatening, even in the light of day. He had studied their architecture for some time; their allure was undeniable but the unpredictable and volatile lie within and he knew it all too well.

   His eyes meet with Hurricane's now, steely but somber, the tension growing by the moment as he breathes in the salty air of summer. He knows that once he steps in, he cannot return unharmed. But though he has heard many horror stories, he knows that there is little that can combat the last pitiful, despairing seventy-two years of life he had lived prior to this. Nothing, perhaps, aside from reliving it. He says nothing, instead giving another firm nod to his King and to the Brothers, before pushing forward and stepping through the threshold.

   It happens all too quickly, and it is over before he expects it to be. He can feel the clenching throb around his skin as its thick, icy pillars claw and scratch at his hide, causing excruciating pain as it rakes along sensitive scar tissue, reopening old wounds. He can hear his own thoughts echoing in his head, over and over - images of his lovers, of his children, dying before him, crumbling into dust and whittling away with a hot summer breeze. He sees himself, lunging again into the murky waters of the darkest ocean, submerging himself within its icy waves as it crushes him against the rocks. He sees himself waning away, a starving skeleton with nary a drop of hydration or a fragment of sustenance in his system, begging death, only for it to mock him and laugh at him and leave him to suffer needlessly on the forest floor. He presses through, following the narrow pathway of the cave, embracing its darkness as his mind is filled with the most painful memories, with the most terrible thoughts. 

   And as suddenly as it all began, it is over.

   He emerges, his eyes stinging from the obscene brightness of day - something he had just found comforting now felt like a violation. He pauses to allow his gaze to adjust, before peering over to his King and to the men standing nearby. He steps forward away from the ruin, his flesh still simmering from the sheer burn of ice digging into his skin - but there is no blood. There is no open wound; nothing but a healed stark design of white against his dark coal pelt - below his right eye, across his cheek.

   He steps forward, a sheen of sweat now coating the length of his massive form, as he stands upright before the others. He glances to Hurricane now, observing him with the same intensity - a shared brotherhood from partaking in the same brutal experience, now marked by the permanent scars marred into his flesh. He does not know where his own lies - but he will know in time; judging by the stares along he can tell it is somewhere near his face. He does not linger on it long before clearing his throat, peering at each of those who stand before him.

   "Brothers, I will do all that I can to revitalize this kingdom and to do right by you all. I intend to keep us safe, sound and prepare us for the very worst. War is always just beyond the horizon, and we must be ready. Hurricane has entrusted this kingdom to me, and I will not fail him, as I do not intend to fail you. If you will have me."

OFFSPRING

[x] - his new scar