03-28-2016, 08:35 PM
there is no good nor evil, there is only power
and those too weak to seek it
and those too weak to seek it
The dark king still smells of blood and pine ash when he reaches his Deserts. The war was a dull throb in the back of his skull, a faraway muddle of magic and death and rage that was heavy in his temples as he strides through the dunes. He comes to her call as she ushers him home to the birth of their newest child and he pushes the aches and the boiling, vengeful thoughts to the back of his mind.
When he reaches her side, he barely glances at the winged mare at her side – Kabechet was a stranger to the Nightwalker and so he offered her nothing but a slight glance as he comes to his golden queen’s side, eyes greedily raking across his son’s frame. The silver and black colt was without flaw and so the king smiled, nudging Yael’s shoulder gently. But then her voice comes and it is a shaking, sorrowful sound that echoes through his veins, Darleeng, I t’ink… I t’ink xe cannot speak. Tufted black ears instantly folded back against his skull and the talons that adorned the tips of his draping wings dug into the rock beneath them, can’t you fix him? He storms back silently; his mind an open pool Yael was all too familiar traversing. Motherfuckers. His mind roars while he struggles to keep the ire from twisting his features as he peered down at his son, who had tears in his eyes.
Customarily, Vanquish would have admonished any son of his that stood before him with a trembling lip – but in this case he simply reaches out with a too-long wing to sweep the boy against he and Yael. “No tears,” the dragon says with the softness of a creaking oak, “you are a long-awaited prince,” he nudges the boy, “so there will be no tears today.” He says as he locks his gaze with Yael’s, blood tomorrow, maybe, but no tears today.
When he reaches her side, he barely glances at the winged mare at her side – Kabechet was a stranger to the Nightwalker and so he offered her nothing but a slight glance as he comes to his golden queen’s side, eyes greedily raking across his son’s frame. The silver and black colt was without flaw and so the king smiled, nudging Yael’s shoulder gently. But then her voice comes and it is a shaking, sorrowful sound that echoes through his veins, Darleeng, I t’ink… I t’ink xe cannot speak. Tufted black ears instantly folded back against his skull and the talons that adorned the tips of his draping wings dug into the rock beneath them, can’t you fix him? He storms back silently; his mind an open pool Yael was all too familiar traversing. Motherfuckers. His mind roars while he struggles to keep the ire from twisting his features as he peered down at his son, who had tears in his eyes.
Customarily, Vanquish would have admonished any son of his that stood before him with a trembling lip – but in this case he simply reaches out with a too-long wing to sweep the boy against he and Yael. “No tears,” the dragon says with the softness of a creaking oak, “you are a long-awaited prince,” he nudges the boy, “so there will be no tears today.” He says as he locks his gaze with Yael’s, blood tomorrow, maybe, but no tears today.
VANQUISH
dragon king of the deserts