09-06-2016, 08:55 PM
BUT HOW COULD YOU KNOW THE SWEETEST SUFFERING
OF MOVING ON
OF MOVING ON
Tiphon shudders when he looks up to see a sky still trying to settle. All that they have ever known has flipped and crumbled leaving them to raise themselves from the ashes. Each of them squirms uncomfortably beneath the world’s oppressive hand as it pins them and drains them of all magic. Every bit of his soul is purged, the magic wringed out like a soaked towel. His lip twitches as he adjusts unhappily to this sense of powerlessness. There is nothing he can do now and he struggles with that small fact as it echoes loud in his head. Everything that he was means nothing now. All the strength he had has been flushed from his bones and so now he finds himself weaker than a newborn.
A flame crackles in his eyes, but it dissipates when he blinks. Although angry he suppresses it as best he can and tries to fathom why this all happened and why they are forced to suffer. They, these beings of magic, are being tormented by being so incapable but this is a means to humble them, to remind them of how easily their lives can be changed.
”Camrynn,” somehow the name returns to him when he hears her liquid voice purr his name. It has been years (decades?) since their brief meeting and yet there is no mistaking her obsidian coat and silky way of speaking. Slowly, Tiphon inclines his head to look at her then to Epithet (though he knows not her name). A deep breath is sighed as they confirm how deeply this purge went, ridding all magicians of their known prowess. ”Don’t try pissing her off more,” he chides Harmonia as his tail sweeps across his hocks, ”she’s obviously quite testy as is.” He glances up again as though expecting lightning to shatter the sky and punish them all.
Nothing happens and so he looks again at the women and shifts his weight. ”The mountain,” he indicates with a tilt of his head, ”still has magic. There must be a way to get it back.” He doesn’t know how, but he wants to. He remembers the invigoration at having his full strength return when he stepped across the border toward the jagged peak. ”Unfortunately, patience is a hard thing to come by when you’ve gotten used to having everything at your whim.” Tiphon didn’t have that luxury. He isn’t a magician and so hasn’t experienced what they have, but he still hungrily craves for what little power he had back.
A flame crackles in his eyes, but it dissipates when he blinks. Although angry he suppresses it as best he can and tries to fathom why this all happened and why they are forced to suffer. They, these beings of magic, are being tormented by being so incapable but this is a means to humble them, to remind them of how easily their lives can be changed.
”Camrynn,” somehow the name returns to him when he hears her liquid voice purr his name. It has been years (decades?) since their brief meeting and yet there is no mistaking her obsidian coat and silky way of speaking. Slowly, Tiphon inclines his head to look at her then to Epithet (though he knows not her name). A deep breath is sighed as they confirm how deeply this purge went, ridding all magicians of their known prowess. ”Don’t try pissing her off more,” he chides Harmonia as his tail sweeps across his hocks, ”she’s obviously quite testy as is.” He glances up again as though expecting lightning to shatter the sky and punish them all.
Nothing happens and so he looks again at the women and shifts his weight. ”The mountain,” he indicates with a tilt of his head, ”still has magic. There must be a way to get it back.” He doesn’t know how, but he wants to. He remembers the invigoration at having his full strength return when he stepped across the border toward the jagged peak. ”Unfortunately, patience is a hard thing to come by when you’ve gotten used to having everything at your whim.” Tiphon didn’t have that luxury. He isn’t a magician and so hasn’t experienced what they have, but he still hungrily craves for what little power he had back.
TIPHON
STARLACE AND INFECTION