09-07-2016, 02:58 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
When Tiphon was young – before the immortality masked him in youth – he had sought out Eight wanting answers. He wanted to hear that his grandmother wasn’t a fling, he wanted to know that in his grandfather there was the ability to truly love. What he hungered for was the knowledge that Eight wasn’t as dark as Infection, as hostile and empty. The conversation was left hanging and Tiphon gained nothing more than a glimpse of his bloodlines.
Much time has elapsed since then – decades, but it flies like centuries – and Tiphon no longer has that boyish curiosity. With immortality there is no sense to truly love because everyone always leaves either by death or by the tapestry being unwound. That’s at least what Tiphon had told himself as a child, but he has since loved and lost. His heart is far larger than what it once was, but it has trembled beneath his losses and has raced in worry for those he cares for. He looks at Eight as though he has the answers, as though he can instill in Tiphon’s mind how feeble and temporary love actually is. For this he has cursed his immortality and has wished for a normal life span, but now that it has been drained he wants it back.
”It’s weird,” he mutters, discontent, with eyes that stare curiously up at Eight, ”and wrong.” Greed had plagued them and yet Tiphon still deems himself innocent, but in this moment, he considers whether he has taken advantage of what he is, of what he can do. His jaws clench thoughtfully, agitated, and he listens to the gravelly voice of his grandfather. He speaks of promise, of recreation and acquisition, but when Tiphon looks down his palms are barren. ”My family,” would it be Eight’s as well? ”is gone. The Dale is gone.” Being a guardian has sunken its claws into his mind, twisting and molding Tiphon into a machine for only one kingdom, for only one purpose.
Without it he is nothing. He has no purpose.
He blinks and the sinew beneath his coat coils. ”How do you detach so easily and move on?” Moose, the Valley, countless other women and children. They all have connections to Eight, fawn over Eight, and yet the (former) magician lives at his own whim. Nothing pins him to the floor. Even without magic Eight is powerful.
Much time has elapsed since then – decades, but it flies like centuries – and Tiphon no longer has that boyish curiosity. With immortality there is no sense to truly love because everyone always leaves either by death or by the tapestry being unwound. That’s at least what Tiphon had told himself as a child, but he has since loved and lost. His heart is far larger than what it once was, but it has trembled beneath his losses and has raced in worry for those he cares for. He looks at Eight as though he has the answers, as though he can instill in Tiphon’s mind how feeble and temporary love actually is. For this he has cursed his immortality and has wished for a normal life span, but now that it has been drained he wants it back.
”It’s weird,” he mutters, discontent, with eyes that stare curiously up at Eight, ”and wrong.” Greed had plagued them and yet Tiphon still deems himself innocent, but in this moment, he considers whether he has taken advantage of what he is, of what he can do. His jaws clench thoughtfully, agitated, and he listens to the gravelly voice of his grandfather. He speaks of promise, of recreation and acquisition, but when Tiphon looks down his palms are barren. ”My family,” would it be Eight’s as well? ”is gone. The Dale is gone.” Being a guardian has sunken its claws into his mind, twisting and molding Tiphon into a machine for only one kingdom, for only one purpose.
Without it he is nothing. He has no purpose.
He blinks and the sinew beneath his coat coils. ”How do you detach so easily and move on?” Moose, the Valley, countless other women and children. They all have connections to Eight, fawn over Eight, and yet the (former) magician lives at his own whim. Nothing pins him to the floor. Even without magic Eight is powerful.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
@[Eight]