02-24-2020, 02:38 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
”I have a pull to it,” he grimly admits, ”I spent most of my life in the north. It’s where I belonged, but also where it pushed me away.” The plague, Icicle Isle. Castile catalogues the memories well enough, but his alter self merges them together to add negative connotation toward the spit of land. A deep hatred festers inside him, far beneath his grasp, brooding where everything of his primal self lives. He does not confess how rapidly he loses himself in this quest, how each day lessens his sense of normalcy. Soon, he imagines, there will be nothing left of him – his true and thoughtful self – only the predatory and instinctual needs of his draconic core.
Perhaps, she already knows.
A deep sigh erupts from him, and as much as he wants to grin with boyish hope, Castile finds himself incapable. ”Maybe,” is all he says as his heart shouts for Sochi to return, wanting her pressed against his side once more.
But not like this. No, he needs to be himself when he finds her again… If he finds her again.
The muscles in Castile’s jaw coil as he clenches in silent frustration. It was his fault – he takes the responsibility – but the awful and proud pieces of him barricade his heart and prevent him from admitting it to her. One day, he promises himself, how long far in the future can an immortal wait? How long until she is nothing more than a memory and ashes on the wind?
I am a fool.
And while he loses grip on his heart and love, he also knows Loess is slipping through his fingers. Everything in his life swerves away from him, all because of his own actions and the passing of time. ”Six years I’ve had this kingdom? I’ve lasted longer than my predecessors,” somehow, amid the sobering conversation, Castile chuckles and finds light humor in the changing wind. ”I’ve helped it as much as I could and it has always remains interesting. I can only hope to leave behind a lasting legacy,” he doesn’t want his name lost, but he understands that it happens to even the greatest of Kings and Queens. And, he reminds himself, death does not follow resignation. There remains unwritten chapters in his life, unforeseen adventures to keep life exciting even when a crown no longer sits on his brow. ”Dear Ilma,” his titanic head inclines and his mismatched eyes glimmer, ”shouldn’t you already know who I plan to succeed me?” The teasing in his voice softens the edges of his face as he regards her lightly before distantly searching the horizon. ”Loess will have a new Queen, and she will be a fresh breath of air,” a scaled brow lifts suggestively while he searches her face for recognition, wondering at what point Ilma will realize who is next in line. As an easy give-away, he adds, ”Our son will be a remarkable prince.”
Castile falters then, his eyes flashing to an indescribable darkness for a fleeting moment. Slowly shaking his head, he suppresses what just tried to surface. ” Things are changing, Ilma. I’m trying to stop it, but it is tiresome. For the first time ever, I’m truly humbled and fearful of entirely losing myself. There’s more to being a monster than I initially realized, and I’m being drawn deeply into it.” This experience, as tumultuous as it is, continues teaching him, but he looks ahead in preparation. ”If I lose myself… completely lose myself… tell her that she is Queen, and Lepis will be her Cleric, if she so desires.” A pause as he reflects hesitantly on himself. ”And I will try to return as myself to be her guardian.”
Perhaps, she already knows.
A deep sigh erupts from him, and as much as he wants to grin with boyish hope, Castile finds himself incapable. ”Maybe,” is all he says as his heart shouts for Sochi to return, wanting her pressed against his side once more.
But not like this. No, he needs to be himself when he finds her again… If he finds her again.
The muscles in Castile’s jaw coil as he clenches in silent frustration. It was his fault – he takes the responsibility – but the awful and proud pieces of him barricade his heart and prevent him from admitting it to her. One day, he promises himself, how long far in the future can an immortal wait? How long until she is nothing more than a memory and ashes on the wind?
I am a fool.
And while he loses grip on his heart and love, he also knows Loess is slipping through his fingers. Everything in his life swerves away from him, all because of his own actions and the passing of time. ”Six years I’ve had this kingdom? I’ve lasted longer than my predecessors,” somehow, amid the sobering conversation, Castile chuckles and finds light humor in the changing wind. ”I’ve helped it as much as I could and it has always remains interesting. I can only hope to leave behind a lasting legacy,” he doesn’t want his name lost, but he understands that it happens to even the greatest of Kings and Queens. And, he reminds himself, death does not follow resignation. There remains unwritten chapters in his life, unforeseen adventures to keep life exciting even when a crown no longer sits on his brow. ”Dear Ilma,” his titanic head inclines and his mismatched eyes glimmer, ”shouldn’t you already know who I plan to succeed me?” The teasing in his voice softens the edges of his face as he regards her lightly before distantly searching the horizon. ”Loess will have a new Queen, and she will be a fresh breath of air,” a scaled brow lifts suggestively while he searches her face for recognition, wondering at what point Ilma will realize who is next in line. As an easy give-away, he adds, ”Our son will be a remarkable prince.”
Castile falters then, his eyes flashing to an indescribable darkness for a fleeting moment. Slowly shaking his head, he suppresses what just tried to surface. ” Things are changing, Ilma. I’m trying to stop it, but it is tiresome. For the first time ever, I’m truly humbled and fearful of entirely losing myself. There’s more to being a monster than I initially realized, and I’m being drawn deeply into it.” This experience, as tumultuous as it is, continues teaching him, but he looks ahead in preparation. ”If I lose myself… completely lose myself… tell her that she is Queen, and Lepis will be her Cleric, if she so desires.” A pause as he reflects hesitantly on himself. ”And I will try to return as myself to be her guardian.”
castile
@[Ilma]