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| Something was wrong.
Covet could feel it deep down in his bones, down to his core, down to whatever material makes you you. He realized long ago his immortality was fickle. What immortal heals but leaves a scar behind? None. He thought it was a joke, a cruel joke, a scar for every memory. It seems to be a symptom of something else entirely.
Now he scrapes his knees and they heal slowly. Slower. Slower still. They scab, they heal over like someone with less magic in their bones. Normally he would cheer for the end of such an era - something so sickening as magic in his bones! No, he knows now that it means something far more nefarious.
When you're over 100 years old the prospect of your death is strange.
So why abandon the Valley? Why leave it now, in his time of need? His twin daughters with Librette's looks stare back at him. Myrina created his carbon copy. He has children in the woodwork looking to make their mark. Isn't this how he wanted to go out? Perhaps he feels like he has unfinished business elsewhere. Matters not of the loin.
So he journeys from the silent, imposing Valley to the boisterous, annoying meadow. And he waits.
| Covet
got a long list of ex lovers they’ll tell you i’m insane |
please excuse all the rusty bad words :3
Burning on, just like a match you strike to incinerate the lives of everyone you know.
And what's the worst you take from every heart you break? And like
the blade you stain, well, I've been holding on tonight.
The shadow child was aimless.
He hasn’t returned to the tundra nor has he seen any of what he considered to be his around (Makai, Sable, Lujza, Baptiste). He was without purpose and he did not care for the feeling. Michaelis was a raven-esque creature. The shadow child was a genuine hoarder – constantly searching for those he considered worthy enough to be kept protected and displayed. He was drawn to others in a way that may seem completely senseless to others.
As per usual, he had not ventured out until the sunset was at its lowest. This began the process of his dayblindess receding and his superb night vision taking its place. He sincerely hated fairies and their monster-trekking fairyland; he could have honestly done without them messing around with his senses.
Surprisingly this late in the fall season, the meadow still remained quite full of others and Michaelis was keen on adding to his small (yet priceless) collection of objet d’arts. He was only ever in the market for intriguing and awe-inspiring pieces; after all, power was truly intoxicating. His mismatched eyes are drawn to a black figure that stands separated from the rest of the main body. The shadow child is immediately stricken by foreign orange eyes; the choice has easily been made.
The blue roan approaches the stallion languidly, his eyes noting the way the shadow tendrils seem to dance about in agitated excitement the closer he drew near. He does not notice the other’s ragged knees or the many scars adorning his body. Instead, his eyes never waver from the way the shadows seem to have accepted him into their fold – never once did they jealously try to draw the shadow child’s attention to them alone.
This made the other’s estimate raise exponentially in Michaelis’ eyes.
“Hello.”
Michaelis
( The Shadow Child )
| | How strange, thinks the orange eyed man, as the shadows abandon him for the quickest of moments. They're remnants of his rule in the Dale so many decades ago, when the shadows were his only true friend. They allowed him to move about in relative secrecy and expected nothing from him. They cloaked him, stroked him, and catered to his ego whenever it were bruised. Really, the shadows were the most consistent thing in the old man's life.
And they leave him fleetingly, jumping ship in favor of...
The stallion says his hellos, and Covet is instantly intrigued. This - child? - brings forth such a response from his dear friends. His eyes are mismatched, greeting Covet's own orange ones with calm ease. He dares not blink, instead forcing his eyes open to watch the other as he approaches.
"Hello," he returns. "Come to visit a statue?" He is referring to himself - old, revered, cracked. | Covet
got a long list of ex lovers they’ll tell you i’m insane |
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