11-18-2016, 12:27 PM
There was such an audacity about this that even the magician was not able to see it coming. That Dovev would approach him so baldly and ask for—no, beg for training was unimaginable to him. He had never wanted something so badly. He had never had to scratch from the bottom to find his way to the top. He had been born of the right place at the right time, and deposited quite handily into Covet’s hand; he had had his mentor and the Jack o lantern King Had his heir-of-sorts. The Dale had flourished in both war and peace, and it was all thanks to a colt being born with a silver spoon in his mouth.
And now that silver spoon had turned to ash, and the dry taste that life had left him was nothing more than an empty stomach and vague dissatisfaction with the sense of entitlement of today’s generation. Born with an interesting trait? You must be destined for greatness. Ashley snorted, tucking his wings in around him in a cloak, and stopped mid-chew. His cud was in his mouth; his jaw working it manically. He heard the boy, his voice quavering with every word he spoke.. the breeze wafting away his words into the wind. Ashley’s hair blew over his amber eyes and he slid his gaze over the small black child, looking for what was in the boy’s heart and mind. He inhaled; and then exhaled again; raised his head and looked level with Dovev.
The breeze picked up to a healthy wind, and Ashley said nothing as he swallowed his mouthful, the wind pulling back his mane to reveal the power and age of his face. He was not a happy man; he was not unhappy either. He then took three steps away from the boy, heading in the direction of the sea, before a bolt of light came from nowhere, burning the flesh on his rump—the shape of an odd looking tree.
An ash tree.
It would scar over—eventually. As for the boy…
“Come, Dovev.”
And now that silver spoon had turned to ash, and the dry taste that life had left him was nothing more than an empty stomach and vague dissatisfaction with the sense of entitlement of today’s generation. Born with an interesting trait? You must be destined for greatness. Ashley snorted, tucking his wings in around him in a cloak, and stopped mid-chew. His cud was in his mouth; his jaw working it manically. He heard the boy, his voice quavering with every word he spoke.. the breeze wafting away his words into the wind. Ashley’s hair blew over his amber eyes and he slid his gaze over the small black child, looking for what was in the boy’s heart and mind. He inhaled; and then exhaled again; raised his head and looked level with Dovev.
The breeze picked up to a healthy wind, and Ashley said nothing as he swallowed his mouthful, the wind pulling back his mane to reveal the power and age of his face. He was not a happy man; he was not unhappy either. He then took three steps away from the boy, heading in the direction of the sea, before a bolt of light came from nowhere, burning the flesh on his rump—the shape of an odd looking tree.
An ash tree.
It would scar over—eventually. As for the boy…
“Come, Dovev.”
ashley
I walked the path, it led me to the end.