jamie
05-08-2023, 09:29 PM
jamie
I CAN’T EXACTLY DESCRIBE HOW I FEEL
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
BUT IT’S NOT QUITE RIGHT
The Chamber had sunk long before he had come clawing into existence. It had been the caves of Pangea that had seen him struggle to prosper, the caves of Pangea that had protected him from the sun and the leering gazes of its inhabitants. It had been Pangea that he’d fought on behalf of all those years ago. It had been Pangea simply because it had been some approximation of the Chamber. Not because he had known the Chamber, but because his mother had.
This is why he steps into the shadows’ gaping mouth and steps out into that dense forest. It is immediately evident that Pangea had only resembled the Chamber by its moral code, as the two could not be any more opposite.
He drags in a rasping breath as he considers the darkness here, the mist, the terrible misery of it and he grins, pleased.
He knows of his mother’s allegiance to the Chamber the same way Iris knows that Pangea has gained a new leader: the ghosts pass down their stories. His mother had loved the Chamber, just as Iris’s mother had. And he understands that the Chamber demands this of its inhabitants: everything.
Is it a coincidence, then, that he answers the call? That he wanders to that place beside the burning tree and finds her there? His amusement deepens and he glances between her and the only other soul who has come. He recognizes the stallion as a sky-thing, though offers him absolutely no greeting.
It had not occurred to Jamie that he might ascend to the throne, but the idea flits through his head now. Because his mother had ruled her, because his mother had fought and bled for her. Still, the slanted smirk lingers in the furthest corner of his mouth.
“What will be the deciding factor, then?” he asks, tilting that freakish head as he glances between the two of them. “How will you decide who’s worthy?”
This is why he steps into the shadows’ gaping mouth and steps out into that dense forest. It is immediately evident that Pangea had only resembled the Chamber by its moral code, as the two could not be any more opposite.
He drags in a rasping breath as he considers the darkness here, the mist, the terrible misery of it and he grins, pleased.
He knows of his mother’s allegiance to the Chamber the same way Iris knows that Pangea has gained a new leader: the ghosts pass down their stories. His mother had loved the Chamber, just as Iris’s mother had. And he understands that the Chamber demands this of its inhabitants: everything.
Is it a coincidence, then, that he answers the call? That he wanders to that place beside the burning tree and finds her there? His amusement deepens and he glances between her and the only other soul who has come. He recognizes the stallion as a sky-thing, though offers him absolutely no greeting.
It had not occurred to Jamie that he might ascend to the throne, but the idea flits through his head now. Because his mother had ruled her, because his mother had fought and bled for her. Still, the slanted smirk lingers in the furthest corner of his mouth.
“What will be the deciding factor, then?” he asks, tilting that freakish head as he glances between the two of them. “How will you decide who’s worthy?”
AND IT LEAVES ME COLD