09-08-2016, 05:47 PM
What was it about Eight that caused others to shy back and quiver? Yes, being a magician meant holding powers inside you that no others had seen, and yes, Eight had a tumultuous history. But it was strange, knowing that very few trusted you. Yes, there were plenty that sought refuge with him - who placed their lives in his kingdom, who sought him out when cracks needed healing or battles to be won. But there were very few who stood at ease next to him - you are not alone in that, Ruan.
And yet, enlightenment seemed to wash over you. Perhaps it was the idea that Eight was no longer the magician he once was - he had no more power than you or any other (save for those who had already fought for their talents back from Beqanna). Or more than that, the bonding of loss. Although Kilter was not yours to claim, there is certainly some form of kinship there, some unspoken connection you had with the child- perhaps one more than even Eight had.
No, Eight was no king - while he held the title countless times, it was not his forte. He had little to do in the way of others- his diplomacy was shaky at best, and bonds of friendship were something he had no thought of. You may have called him king, but it was nothing more than a titled threat - for who would want to raise arms against a magician king?
Eight drinks in your gaze as it wanders with his - no doubt he knows your mild confusion. You two have never spoken, save for when you saw the birth of his children. You knew him as king, a veiled shadow who protected the Valley. You had never seen him unsure, unsteady, or beseeching for help. He had never needed help, truthfully- and this was perhaps the first time he had ever been humbled enough to do so.
The realization was startling - he, the father of Kilter, could not place where the boy could be. He had spent so much time seeking you and the little colt in his mind, but never cared to venture to the depths of the pines to run alongside him and the wolves. Eight may have watched over him, may have had the magic to appear beside any danger that may have overtaken the boy - but it was you who stood near him, it was you who watched him not through your mind, but through your own eyes.
At your response, Eight’s face turned grim. He knew Beqanna would never harm her own people - but Kilter? Kilter knew nothing of the outside world. He was alone, creating ribbons of his own story with wolves and pine trees (with you nestled in between).
“Truly, it is not your task.” The once magician spoke surely - he knew you had no blood relation to the boy, no need to risk yourself to find him. But your immediate response, the flutter in your wings and the tensing of your muscles told Eight that this had little to do with your prior devotion to the Valley. This had much to do about your ties to the boy.
“I live in Tephra now - should you ever find him. Thank you, Ruan.” He nodded his head, and with that picked into a gallop through the thick snow before lifting into the air with the only thing the fairy left him with, his thick, black wings.
(So, I'm kinda thinkin' Kilter will be in the forest (: )
And yet, enlightenment seemed to wash over you. Perhaps it was the idea that Eight was no longer the magician he once was - he had no more power than you or any other (save for those who had already fought for their talents back from Beqanna). Or more than that, the bonding of loss. Although Kilter was not yours to claim, there is certainly some form of kinship there, some unspoken connection you had with the child- perhaps one more than even Eight had.
No, Eight was no king - while he held the title countless times, it was not his forte. He had little to do in the way of others- his diplomacy was shaky at best, and bonds of friendship were something he had no thought of. You may have called him king, but it was nothing more than a titled threat - for who would want to raise arms against a magician king?
Eight drinks in your gaze as it wanders with his - no doubt he knows your mild confusion. You two have never spoken, save for when you saw the birth of his children. You knew him as king, a veiled shadow who protected the Valley. You had never seen him unsure, unsteady, or beseeching for help. He had never needed help, truthfully- and this was perhaps the first time he had ever been humbled enough to do so.
The realization was startling - he, the father of Kilter, could not place where the boy could be. He had spent so much time seeking you and the little colt in his mind, but never cared to venture to the depths of the pines to run alongside him and the wolves. Eight may have watched over him, may have had the magic to appear beside any danger that may have overtaken the boy - but it was you who stood near him, it was you who watched him not through your mind, but through your own eyes.
At your response, Eight’s face turned grim. He knew Beqanna would never harm her own people - but Kilter? Kilter knew nothing of the outside world. He was alone, creating ribbons of his own story with wolves and pine trees (with you nestled in between).
“Truly, it is not your task.” The once magician spoke surely - he knew you had no blood relation to the boy, no need to risk yourself to find him. But your immediate response, the flutter in your wings and the tensing of your muscles told Eight that this had little to do with your prior devotion to the Valley. This had much to do about your ties to the boy.
“I live in Tephra now - should you ever find him. Thank you, Ruan.” He nodded his head, and with that picked into a gallop through the thick snow before lifting into the air with the only thing the fairy left him with, his thick, black wings.
(So, I'm kinda thinkin' Kilter will be in the forest (: )