09-08-2016, 11:49 AM
no matter what they say, I am still the king
It is not uncommon for magician’s lives to be tied into one another. When you live for forever, how can you avoid one another? It is rare, though, for them to stick around for long. Magicians, as you know, are capricious creatures, coming and going as they please. They carry no true ties to timelines or terrains. They bend the world as they will, they eke away their days here and there, with no real contingency of aging. It is dangerously easy to get lost like this – in a limbo of here and there, in between Beqanna and the unknown. It is so simple to realize that there is little in the world that can stop you, and oh so easy to lose sight of something to do.
He exhales sharply, a mix of a scoff and a laugh - “Indeed it is. Never felt like this before, that’s for sure.”
Even in normalcy, there retains some form of power. No, you no longer have that electric blood in your veins – but you can feel it, can’t you? It’s hiding there, just below the surface, threatening to burst out at a moment’s notice. You may not be able to wield the might that you once had, but you can taste it – feel it – breathe it. You know it’s there. You still aren’t normal, Ashley. You never can be. Even if your magic were to never return again – there is no going back. There is no ordinary once you have been, or are, a magician. There is always that tickle in the back of your mind, in the canals of your veins – that you are powerful, you are potent.
And Eight? What did Eight feel about it all? He could relate to the loss of magic in Beqanna – he, like everyone else, had been faced with the whiplash of loss. He was ordinary – with nothing but his thick, black wings remaining. But did he feel sorrow? Did he feel loss? Who could really say? It was a long way to fall, but perhaps being ordinary at best would be good for now. Perhaps his loss of magic has given him just a brief glimpse of what it would be like to not be who he is.
He jerks his head towards you in greeting, his mind searching to place the name. “Ah, Ashley. King of the Dale once so long ago, no?” It indeed had been ages, eons, since Eight had seen your face. “And what brings you back around now?”
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in