09-02-2016, 01:30 PM
no matter what they say, I am still the king
He was no longer a king (as if that was ever something he was truly that good at). The Valley was no longer his (as if she ever truly belonged to anyone). And it seemed parts of him were no longer himself either (but perhaps that is a good thing). Gone – it was all gone. The land shredded and rebuilt, like a patchwork puzzle with missing pieces still gone. The Valley had been swallowed up – her howling wolves and her soft whispering pines and her tall and cragged walls – she was gone, a memory that would never fade. But her inhabitants? They were still here, they would still thrive.
No, he was no longer a king – but he would be lying if he said he didn’t truly care for the people that found their womb inside of Her. He was no longer their monarch, and perhaps no longer even their guardian - but there was no doubt that those who had lived inside of Her, Eight still held tightly, still felt some sort of debt to them, some sort of kinship.
And so he went back to the meadow, back to where he knew they would be – for where else would they go? The Mountain was too harsh to stay at for long, and the Valley was no longer a haven for them – there were few else places to go in this fogged and tender land. While they no longer had powers and traits and the fairy magic inside of them – he knew that they would find their own.
It was not long before he saw her – the once fire wielding mare, the one that was none too much of a fan of him (and who could blame her?). But now? Was now the time for burnt bridges? Would she still hold tightly to the distaste for Eight? It did not matter. She was a part of the Valley too, and it was likely that she felt as alone and confused as any.
“Cress!” He called out, spotting her across the meadow, and swiftly broke into a trot to reach her. “Cress – you okay?” He looked over her quickly, and while there was no injury, there was the staunch realization of panic, loss, sorrow. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest. “Have you seen anyone else?”
No, he was no longer a king – but he would be lying if he said he didn’t truly care for the people that found their womb inside of Her. He was no longer their monarch, and perhaps no longer even their guardian - but there was no doubt that those who had lived inside of Her, Eight still held tightly, still felt some sort of debt to them, some sort of kinship.
And so he went back to the meadow, back to where he knew they would be – for where else would they go? The Mountain was too harsh to stay at for long, and the Valley was no longer a haven for them – there were few else places to go in this fogged and tender land. While they no longer had powers and traits and the fairy magic inside of them – he knew that they would find their own.
It was not long before he saw her – the once fire wielding mare, the one that was none too much of a fan of him (and who could blame her?). But now? Was now the time for burnt bridges? Would she still hold tightly to the distaste for Eight? It did not matter. She was a part of the Valley too, and it was likely that she felt as alone and confused as any.
“Cress!” He called out, spotting her across the meadow, and swiftly broke into a trot to reach her. “Cress – you okay?” He looked over her quickly, and while there was no injury, there was the staunch realization of panic, loss, sorrow. His heart squeezed tightly in his chest. “Have you seen anyone else?”
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in