05-29-2015, 09:56 AM
no matter what they say, I am still the king
The fated child of Covet and Librette – such a heavy weight to bear. Two of the Valley’s oldest members, creatures who lurked in the heart of her for the longest time. It seemed as if Covet and Librette were made of the Valley – her soil in their veins, her trees tied into the chambers of their hearts. While neither Covet nor Librette seem to be quite so doting to children, they raised you well none the less (or at least, kept you alive). Perhaps you, too, will end up growing into the bark of the Valley, becoming a living, breathing entity of it, just as your parents.
And then there is you, Flamevein. Also tied to the Valley, born from her history, caked with the dark past of your parentage. Perhaps, we could say, that most children birthed in Beqanna are tied to the Valley in some way. The past rulers of this darkened land have carved a place for themselves in the history of Beqanna. What shall you two carve?
Eight has not been around much, and in retaliation, the once booming Valley has melted away. And now it was up to him to stand up once more, and create the flurry of activity that once was. What better way to start than with the future?
He approaches quietly, after watching the beginning of their exchange. Thorunn, he knew, was of Librette and Covet, and Flamevein he had come across before. “Flamevein, hello again. Thorunn, nice to meet you.” He was never really good at this sort of thing, truly. Perhaps why he was best seen and not heard as a ruler. “ It’s good to see the future talking to the past, Flamevein’s pretty thrifty in his talents.” Again, Eight never fails to fall short of normalcy, he never quite knows what to say.
∞
and now the storm is coming, the storm is coming in