BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
Tiphon wanted – needed – the truth and yet he flinches as the words scald him. His eyes shut and his head turns down as though ashamed, but he knew; he has always known how different he is from his grandfather. Although bound eternally by blood their minds couldn’t be more contrasting and so polar. Eight is the darkness to Tiphon’s light, the yin to his yang. And yet somehow there is a magnetic pull and they so often find themselves meeting, if only briefly. Their fates are so deeply intertwined despite hardly being present in one another’s lives.
And yet being so different Tiphon can’t help but wonder if he will one day mold into the image of his grandfather where love is such a feeble thing, a fleeting feeling lost by time. This immortality that they’ve both grasped so tightly has left their bodies and has made it possible to savor the touches of a woman and the smile of a child, but it’s in this moment they realize how debilitating it is. With the blessing is a curse; with the rose there is always a thorn. For decades Tiphon fought the urge to love, to care, because he was above them all, but his heart quivered and he tumbled blindly into it. He doesn’t regret it – he never could – but he regrets how he has treated this deep-hearted love. Immortality has turned years into a mere blink of an eye. When he melts away from their embrace he thinks it has only been one season, maybe two, but then he sees his children grown and new generations beginning.
He wishes he couldn’t attach, like Eight, but he is too far gone.
When Tiphon’s eyes are closed he sees the Dale and he sees Talulah and Elysteria. They’re smiling at him and although his heart craves them he only thinks of the thousands of ways he has disappointed them because immortality has destroyed the importance and delicacy of time. Without immortality he would have held them longer, loved them more, left them less.
It is a pity, a curse, and a gift.
The words are deafening. Tiphon grimaces upon hearing them, but he agrees with a silent nod. ”I need to be like you,” he lowly mumbles as though ashamed to admit this, ”but I feel like it’s too late.” His gilded eyes lift with his head until he is level with his grandfather, searching his gaze and wanting to delve deep into his mind, to understand the mechanic workings of it and so see the churning wheels. ”But I wonder how dark the world is when you’re unable to love.”
And yet being so different Tiphon can’t help but wonder if he will one day mold into the image of his grandfather where love is such a feeble thing, a fleeting feeling lost by time. This immortality that they’ve both grasped so tightly has left their bodies and has made it possible to savor the touches of a woman and the smile of a child, but it’s in this moment they realize how debilitating it is. With the blessing is a curse; with the rose there is always a thorn. For decades Tiphon fought the urge to love, to care, because he was above them all, but his heart quivered and he tumbled blindly into it. He doesn’t regret it – he never could – but he regrets how he has treated this deep-hearted love. Immortality has turned years into a mere blink of an eye. When he melts away from their embrace he thinks it has only been one season, maybe two, but then he sees his children grown and new generations beginning.
He wishes he couldn’t attach, like Eight, but he is too far gone.
When Tiphon’s eyes are closed he sees the Dale and he sees Talulah and Elysteria. They’re smiling at him and although his heart craves them he only thinks of the thousands of ways he has disappointed them because immortality has destroyed the importance and delicacy of time. Without immortality he would have held them longer, loved them more, left them less.
It is a pity, a curse, and a gift.
The words are deafening. Tiphon grimaces upon hearing them, but he agrees with a silent nod. ”I need to be like you,” he lowly mumbles as though ashamed to admit this, ”but I feel like it’s too late.” His gilded eyes lift with his head until he is level with his grandfather, searching his gaze and wanting to delve deep into his mind, to understand the mechanic workings of it and so see the churning wheels. ”But I wonder how dark the world is when you’re unable to love.”
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION
@[Eight]