Set
I like the way the chains lie draped across the proud stallion’s hide, separating dead tissue from the living and leaving raw pink trails in their wake. I study him as I approach, yellow eyes gone deadpan, the corner of my mouth twisted into a permanent smirk …
I waken with a start, mismatched lids snapping open to reveal milky, dead eyes. The air is cool and damp. My ears twitch with the sound of dripping water; slowly my scope widens and the rushing sound of a river is apparent. Rain falls in a cool mist, beading on the flowers growing through my rotted hide, the sand cool beneath phantom muscles. Neurons fire and I attempt to rise but my bones, long relieved of their flesh, lie in a scattered pile down the shore. It is only a moment before irritation cauterizes my confusion and as the shadows converge on my death-stricken form, hooves and long bones leave furrows in the sand …
I’m standing once again, something I have not done in years, skin and hair knitting themselves together, eyes once again an unearthly gold-color as I squint out across the ocean. Silver Cove had once been my territory. Never a home, simply a place to call my own … The Chamber had always been home. Instinctively I turn in her direction, nostrils flared wide. Did Rodrik still rule or had some other risen to power? How long has it been since I walked these lands. I take a deep breath, dusty lungs filled with sea-salt air, and step into the kingdom I once ruled, the kingdom that will forever be home …
The atmosphere ripples; a hoof and then a torn and scarred body follows, the portal closing behind me with a soft sigh. She’s not changed much and yet, everything is different. The pines and spruce still stand sentinel, dark and foreboding against a boulder-strewn forest. Evidence of her trials and tribulations – the scorched earth, the collapsed slave pens, the cracked and blood-soaked ground – is obvious if you know where to look. Gone are the scents of my childhood, Mother and my privileged life; yet here is the site of my first battle; the scene makes my scars itch as I pass reverently through the shadows. Lost in my wandering, unconcerned in my well-deserved arrogance …
I waken with a start, mismatched lids snapping open to reveal milky, dead eyes. The air is cool and damp. My ears twitch with the sound of dripping water; slowly my scope widens and the rushing sound of a river is apparent. Rain falls in a cool mist, beading on the flowers growing through my rotted hide, the sand cool beneath phantom muscles. Neurons fire and I attempt to rise but my bones, long relieved of their flesh, lie in a scattered pile down the shore. It is only a moment before irritation cauterizes my confusion and as the shadows converge on my death-stricken form, hooves and long bones leave furrows in the sand …
I’m standing once again, something I have not done in years, skin and hair knitting themselves together, eyes once again an unearthly gold-color as I squint out across the ocean. Silver Cove had once been my territory. Never a home, simply a place to call my own … The Chamber had always been home. Instinctively I turn in her direction, nostrils flared wide. Did Rodrik still rule or had some other risen to power? How long has it been since I walked these lands. I take a deep breath, dusty lungs filled with sea-salt air, and step into the kingdom I once ruled, the kingdom that will forever be home …
The atmosphere ripples; a hoof and then a torn and scarred body follows, the portal closing behind me with a soft sigh. She’s not changed much and yet, everything is different. The pines and spruce still stand sentinel, dark and foreboding against a boulder-strewn forest. Evidence of her trials and tribulations – the scorched earth, the collapsed slave pens, the cracked and blood-soaked ground – is obvious if you know where to look. Gone are the scents of my childhood, Mother and my privileged life; yet here is the site of my first battle; the scene makes my scars itch as I pass reverently through the shadows. Lost in my wandering, unconcerned in my well-deserved arrogance …