Khaedrik.

[Khaedrik]

Khaedrik – prone to foul moods and prickly silence holds no great consideration for his aging parents and their ludicrous love. Their love that clings to his hide like too thick tar, and his only respite is the fact that they are too old, too wearied to observe their sons dawning insanity. Oh, they try – they dote upon him whenever he is near, tell him nonsensical stories and brush his knotted mane with gentle teeth. But they don’t see the glint of delusion in his eye, and their ears chose not to hear the way he sometimes speaks to himself in the dead of night.

They don’t see the way his eyes twinkle with the gloom that is reserved purely for the pen and paper of fiction writers. They are constantly staring, those too dark eyes of his, never blinking, always seeing as they trace unseen things back and forth. Beautiful, perhaps, but cold as arctic winds. He should have been an innocent babe; to be wooed and swayed by what others say – instead he is cold and empty save for those dark, dark eternity-eyes that always stare. Something in that soul is broken. Someone has let the chisel slip and now there is a crack and slowly he is seeping, slowly mold and dirt are breaking into his flaw – devouring him.

But she sees – and for that he loves her. In his own twisted way.

The night has grown comfortable in its familiarity and alluring in its ambiguity. It is in the seclusion that night offered that he could falter in good behavior; reconsidering his teetering insanity and future inclinations. He should have used that same night for childish games of hide and seek, gamboling beneath benevolent stars with silly smiles.

Instead; Khaedrik shrinks back into his shadows. Alone.

Lately – he has made one very important revelation. The monsters obey him.

Oh, it is a dangerous revelation – such as every revelation that gives ammunition to the broken are. His small body quivers in expectation as he weaves his way through the night with tiny, delicate steps, as if he was afraid to break shards of sea glass. It is her smell that first betrays her presence – brought to him on the back of a shadowed gale. His nostrils flared, quivered, and then subsided but there is a small smile on his lips – one that is reserved for her and her only. Oh, how many nights had she not been with him in his dreams? He doesn’t know of her gift – but is grateful all the same. This, and the way her own eyes simmer with the familiarity of the ethereal is the reason he does not despise her touch, but rather leans his small golden frame into the motley smudges of her chest.

”I want to show you something!”

He knows she will not judge


I KNOW : I was just going to ask you for a thread for the two of them! I´m sorry for the slight weirdness of this post, I´m still trying to get the hang of Khaedriks personality.