08-02-2016, 02:14 PM
The Cove. Oh, I’ve never been there, but I have certainly heard stories. Not so much of the current residents, because our family has been away for quite some time. No, but I have heard my family’s stories of the Cove’s infamy, of a man named Khaos who brutalized Dad’s friend Noellen. Who mutilated Dad when he tried to rescue his starshine girl, nearly killed him, left him crippled and broken and bleeding out onto the Meadow’s already blood-drenched ground.
And of Grandma Quark’s ruthless, glorious vengeance. The way she tore Khaos’s soul from his body, tortured and mutilated and branded him the way he had done to her son. The way she left the iron statue with a dragon’s eye carved into his shoulder as a warning to any who would dare fuck with her family.
This strange man who stands too close for comfort is from the Cove.
I turn back to him, wary curiosity replacing my friendly smile. “I haven’t, no. But I’ve heard things. About an iron horse and a dragon.” I wonder if his body still stands sentinel over what were once his lands. If Grandma’s mark is still branded into his iron skin. That’s one of the old stories she wouldn’t show me, wouldn’t take me into potential enemy territory just to satisfy my curiosity. Oh, and I want to see. But I’m also not quite stupid enough to ask a strange, kind of intimidating man, who very well might have reason to hate my family, to take me home and show me his iron idol.
Still. Ohhhh still. “Does...is Khaos still there?”
And of Grandma Quark’s ruthless, glorious vengeance. The way she tore Khaos’s soul from his body, tortured and mutilated and branded him the way he had done to her son. The way she left the iron statue with a dragon’s eye carved into his shoulder as a warning to any who would dare fuck with her family.
This strange man who stands too close for comfort is from the Cove.
I turn back to him, wary curiosity replacing my friendly smile. “I haven’t, no. But I’ve heard things. About an iron horse and a dragon.” I wonder if his body still stands sentinel over what were once his lands. If Grandma’s mark is still branded into his iron skin. That’s one of the old stories she wouldn’t show me, wouldn’t take me into potential enemy territory just to satisfy my curiosity. Oh, and I want to see. But I’m also not quite stupid enough to ask a strange, kind of intimidating man, who very well might have reason to hate my family, to take me home and show me his iron idol.
Still. Ohhhh still. “Does...is Khaos still there?”