03-18-2019, 01:33 PM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
”We are constantly changing,” he reciprocates with an easy grin sliding across the edges of his mouth, ”but what of your perceptions?” As Heartfire has well noticed, Castile is no longer a bashful boy hugging his mother’s leg. It has been more than a decade since he was born that stormy night in Nerine’s caves. Lightning illuminated him as rain swept and pelted the rocky Cliffside. The moment he escaped mother’s womb and drew in his first breath, Castile was battered by noises and images that assaulted his every sense. Nayl knew what she wanted her son to be, and although it took some time, he has been reformed and chiseled into a legacy that she and father could, hopefully, look on proudly.
Years of change – both good and bad – face Heartfire with militaristic-like poise, his eyes alight with an inner fire. Castile cannot help to wonder what thoughts race through her mind as she drinks in the sight of him and Loess at his back. ”Has your perception of me changed?” He asks coolly with a punctuating shrug, ”Or is that still to be decided?”
The spring is at their sides, glimmering in the sunlight as it falls across their backs. It’s comfortable and certainly warmer than Nerine’s northern coast. Nonetheless, Heartfire smells strongly of his original home and birthplace. His heart flutters as memories rise to the surface and flash across his eyelids each time he blinks. Mother’s kingdom – because it was never his to own with its matriarchal society – has always been kind to him and always welcomed him back. It was comfortable, it was familiar. When he had no ambition, it was perfect, but change swept across him like the seasons. It brought him here again, and Heartfire leads quickly into her curiosity. A single chuckle slips. ”It has always been kind to me.” Perhaps few know of his time here because it had been so brief. It was a heartbeat in the grand scheme of things, a fleeting memory. ”I was made Regent years ago when Lepis was only a child with a crown on her head. When she left the throne, I abandoned my title as Regent,” or maybe it was stripped from him, discarded by the girl’s successor. He can’t remember.
”After some trials and tribulations, I came back. Lo and behold, I became King.” He doesn’t specify the short period he was overseer of the Resort. It wasn’t peaceful or accepting; a bitter taste remains on his tongue when he thinks back on it. ”So, I assume you’re back in Nerine based on your scent. Does that leave Leilan alone in Icicle Isle?” The three of them had originally planted their feet on the frozen island and defended it from the hellraisers. Nothing ever came to fruition. It took only a short wait until the island was handed to Leilan, and therefore, Nerine. Castile remembers that, and recalls how dutifully he stood by with the others until fate pulled him into a different direction entirely.
Years of change – both good and bad – face Heartfire with militaristic-like poise, his eyes alight with an inner fire. Castile cannot help to wonder what thoughts race through her mind as she drinks in the sight of him and Loess at his back. ”Has your perception of me changed?” He asks coolly with a punctuating shrug, ”Or is that still to be decided?”
The spring is at their sides, glimmering in the sunlight as it falls across their backs. It’s comfortable and certainly warmer than Nerine’s northern coast. Nonetheless, Heartfire smells strongly of his original home and birthplace. His heart flutters as memories rise to the surface and flash across his eyelids each time he blinks. Mother’s kingdom – because it was never his to own with its matriarchal society – has always been kind to him and always welcomed him back. It was comfortable, it was familiar. When he had no ambition, it was perfect, but change swept across him like the seasons. It brought him here again, and Heartfire leads quickly into her curiosity. A single chuckle slips. ”It has always been kind to me.” Perhaps few know of his time here because it had been so brief. It was a heartbeat in the grand scheme of things, a fleeting memory. ”I was made Regent years ago when Lepis was only a child with a crown on her head. When she left the throne, I abandoned my title as Regent,” or maybe it was stripped from him, discarded by the girl’s successor. He can’t remember.
”After some trials and tribulations, I came back. Lo and behold, I became King.” He doesn’t specify the short period he was overseer of the Resort. It wasn’t peaceful or accepting; a bitter taste remains on his tongue when he thinks back on it. ”So, I assume you’re back in Nerine based on your scent. Does that leave Leilan alone in Icicle Isle?” The three of them had originally planted their feet on the frozen island and defended it from the hellraisers. Nothing ever came to fruition. It took only a short wait until the island was handed to Leilan, and therefore, Nerine. Castile remembers that, and recalls how dutifully he stood by with the others until fate pulled him into a different direction entirely.
castile
@[Heartfire]