[open] Castaway Guardian

[magnus]

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

Magnus walked slowly into the field, his gold-flecked eyes bright and watchful as they washed over all of the bodies that inhabited it. The potential was enough to stir enthusiasm into his veins; he could feel it wash up against the back of his throat as he stood silently along the land’s border. That was perhaps his very favorite part of his daily trek here. It was a place where he could shed the guilt and the regret. He could shed everything except the quiet anticipation of finding new souls—and maybe even new friends.

He clung to that hope as he watched the interaction between the black stallion and mare of a similar hue, his scarred mouth lifting into a crooked grin. Shrugging his powerful shoulders, he made his way toward them, a stark difference in color. “Hello to you both!” he called when he was a few yards away, the breeze lifting the tangled ink of his mane to reveal the sweat-slicked flesh beneath it. He did love a good run.

Moving closer still, he only came to a stop when he was a few feet away—keeping a respectable distance from the both while coming close enough to easy to talk. “My name is Magnus.” His expression was neutral, friendly—but his gaze was sharp as he watched them both. If he had known of the stallion’s story, he might have felt the sharp sting of empathy; no one knew better than him the weight of regret. Alas, he did not and instead, he waited patiently. “What brings you both to the field on a day like today?”

MAGNUS

once general. once lord. once king.