[private] Out with the golden we sew // Rodrik.

[Rodrik]

He faded away—just as the memory of those who we once knew do. The stories of the old simply become forgotten or old tales and legends. He has simply become part of those stories. The stories of the old world were where he fell into, just another old king that once ruled a kingdom. A kingdom that used to be feared by many and held the highest regard for. But he has been many things. There are names written upon his heart of those he has killed and the souls he has kept locked away. He has been a father to a handful of children. He has been a deceitful lover to some, but loved another full-heartedly. He has been a son to a once queen—a mother he adored like no other. And then he has been the devil, bestowed into this world—a ruler of death. He can never die though—he lives forever. The darkness pulls and tethers him together. Piece by piece he will always be rebuilt. The earth pulls and sews him back together. Flesh and bone mended together by anatomical and physiological entities at the will of death. He is ultimately a slave to the darkness, drawn to it to worship and created to corrupt. His thirst for greed and to be someone many years ago has shaped him to be this way. And at times he tries to return to what he once was—a man who only wanted to be something. There beneath the hollowed-dark eyes remain the boy he used to be—the boy his mother loved so much. --- The night claims him again. He finds himself as a shadow-dweller of the night, just as he had been with the weight of the crown long ago. However, tonight he is not sure what brings him through the forest. These trees are not the same he has grown up in, but he has become accustomed to them. He was forced to become familiar with these new lands, shifted and shaped by the fairies of Beqanna due to their own destruction and greed. Then again there always will be those who favor the darkness. He is a creature of the dark after all—and time again and again he falls back into that familiar pattern. But tonight he follows the light. The moon guides him towards the clearing. Rodrik pushes through the shadows and plants. His eyes catching onto a figure in the glade. Something pulls him forward—something deep beneath that has been forgotten. His heart pounds harder. The light helps make everything become more evident, but he isn’t quite sure what he is seeing just yet. He can feel the cold autumn air become even more colder. His steps are hastening to the figure—a body that is illuminated by the moonlight resembling an old, but not forgotten mother. This mare is covered in clouded leopard spots. He swears by his own life that her eyes are the familiar nutmeg one of his own mothers. It is his mother, but not his mother. “Who are you?” he demands at once.

character info: here | character reference: here | image © rostyslav zagornov