04-28-2021, 05:05 PM
stifled the choice and the air in my lungs;
better not to breathe than to breathe a lie
Kamaria had begged him to take her to the Isle, even sending persuading emotions with practiced accuracy. It had taken everything in him to resist her, but his fatherly fear eventually overrode anything that stood in its way. Although the sun has returned so day and night may continue, Tiercel cannot suppress an underlying feeling of apprehension. He spends his nights staring at the horizon, wondering if the sun will truly rise. He spends his days watching the shadows, waiting to see them creep beyond their boundaries.
The Underworld has made him paranoid, and he finds himself doubting the revival of normalcy.
A set of twins running past startles Tiercel from his thinking. He becomes suddenly aware of how nice the bitter air feels on his warm skin. The brotherly games had given the dun-and-navy quite the workout, leaving a layer of sweat on him. His tired muscles ache slightly as Tiercel wanders the festival, but he enjoys the way the cold seems to soothe the soreness away.
A voice says his name, and it only takes him a moment to recognize who the voice belongs to. As Tiercel turns toward Ischia’s caretaker, he finds that she is just as much an ocean beauty in the sunlight as she is beneath the blue glow of her orbs. Aquaria stands out against the frozen, snowy landscape; she seems like an entity from another world.
The stallion nods his navy-dipped face downward respectfully, and his pale blue eyes catch hers when he raises his head. “Ah, Ischia’s loyal daughter,” he greets warmly. For a flickering moment, Tiercel sees a frightening memory in her blue-violet eyes (the pale mare’s lips and eye sockets had turned that color after enough blood spilled onto the oil-black ground). It chills him, making the air uncomfortable rather than pleasant, and the rhythmic pulse of his glowing heart and blood vessels speeds up to match the increase in his heartbeat.
Tiercel forces himself to hear Aquaria’s words above the familiar shriek that begins to wail in his mind. “The same goes for you.” His mouth has gone dry amidst his fear, so he clears his throat. “Although the tropics might be your home, you make this frozen island look warmer.” The stallion hides the rest of his panic behind a charming smile, which he follows by saying, “How have you been, Aquaria?”
The Underworld has made him paranoid, and he finds himself doubting the revival of normalcy.
A set of twins running past startles Tiercel from his thinking. He becomes suddenly aware of how nice the bitter air feels on his warm skin. The brotherly games had given the dun-and-navy quite the workout, leaving a layer of sweat on him. His tired muscles ache slightly as Tiercel wanders the festival, but he enjoys the way the cold seems to soothe the soreness away.
A voice says his name, and it only takes him a moment to recognize who the voice belongs to. As Tiercel turns toward Ischia’s caretaker, he finds that she is just as much an ocean beauty in the sunlight as she is beneath the blue glow of her orbs. Aquaria stands out against the frozen, snowy landscape; she seems like an entity from another world.
The stallion nods his navy-dipped face downward respectfully, and his pale blue eyes catch hers when he raises his head. “Ah, Ischia’s loyal daughter,” he greets warmly. For a flickering moment, Tiercel sees a frightening memory in her blue-violet eyes (the pale mare’s lips and eye sockets had turned that color after enough blood spilled onto the oil-black ground). It chills him, making the air uncomfortable rather than pleasant, and the rhythmic pulse of his glowing heart and blood vessels speeds up to match the increase in his heartbeat.
Tiercel forces himself to hear Aquaria’s words above the familiar shriek that begins to wail in his mind. “The same goes for you.” His mouth has gone dry amidst his fear, so he clears his throat. “Although the tropics might be your home, you make this frozen island look warmer.” The stallion hides the rest of his panic behind a charming smile, which he follows by saying, “How have you been, Aquaria?”
tiercel.
@[Aquaria]