04-02-2019, 09:26 AM
and underneath the layers, I find myself asking what's left
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
a hollowed out form, the skeleton of a ghost, the pitiful echo of what once was
A lifted brow and lopsided grin greet Heartfire’s drawling reply. ”Depends on what your perspective is of me, really,” he mirrors her tone as his mismatched eyes vibrantly flash underneath the summer sun. It has frequented his mind in these past moments how the Nerinian Queen looks at him. Is he still the bashful boy at mother’s hip? Or perhaps the loyal Nerinian that always found solace on her shores? Maybe she replays in her mind his blood-drunk, slow, merciless murder of Klaudius. Surely, she doesn’t yet look upon him and see a King. The crown is still pristine, untainted by his reign. The weight of it remains new to him. The other kingdoms still are grasping for the knowledge, some even unaware of his ascension. He should change that.
But Nerine’s welfare – something that still rings dearly to him – grasps his attention. His assumptions are confirmed and Castile languidly nods, his expression only slightly softening. ”Good. You’ve always been a strong asset to the kingdom,” he doesn’t lie to her. Mother trusted Heartfire years ago and held her as a respectable individual. Castile only vaguely remembers; his childhood was spent there, but he didn’t partake in many of the political matters. He spoke with whomever reached out to him. Back then, he didn’t assess others like he does not. Then, he didn’t classify everyone as prey or hunter (because no one will be his equal). It was a matter of who was kind to him, who spoke to him, and who didn’t want him dead.
”And I’m glad others have joined Leilan. It seemed lonely only having a handful of us on the island – Nerinians – with an endless dispute with the outsiders.” Rey and Set, most notably, but their names are lost on the breeze with the changing seasons. They never surface to his tongue, letting their memories fade into oblivion. ”I owe him a visit.” It’s more of a thought spoken aloud. He had told Leilan he was going to find his children and return, but then fate intercepted and the Icicle Isle was never again in his line of sight.
In fact, much of Castile’s ambitions took an odd turn as of late. Among everything, his attachment to Nerine has even stretched. Although it holds a piece of his heart, he has become less inclined to visit or roam the cave systems like he once did. That could be why Heartfire is here - to bridge the forming gap, or to analyze what the once-prince has since become. With a swivel of his ear, Castile listens and inclines his head. ”Ah. There we go. The real reason you came to visit.” Placid and unbothered, he settles himself and rolls his baroque shoulders in preparation. His wings shuffle and he heavily sighs. ”Alright then. Lay the politics on me, Aunty.” A half-hearted chuckle punctuates the opening of the stage.
But Nerine’s welfare – something that still rings dearly to him – grasps his attention. His assumptions are confirmed and Castile languidly nods, his expression only slightly softening. ”Good. You’ve always been a strong asset to the kingdom,” he doesn’t lie to her. Mother trusted Heartfire years ago and held her as a respectable individual. Castile only vaguely remembers; his childhood was spent there, but he didn’t partake in many of the political matters. He spoke with whomever reached out to him. Back then, he didn’t assess others like he does not. Then, he didn’t classify everyone as prey or hunter (because no one will be his equal). It was a matter of who was kind to him, who spoke to him, and who didn’t want him dead.
”And I’m glad others have joined Leilan. It seemed lonely only having a handful of us on the island – Nerinians – with an endless dispute with the outsiders.” Rey and Set, most notably, but their names are lost on the breeze with the changing seasons. They never surface to his tongue, letting their memories fade into oblivion. ”I owe him a visit.” It’s more of a thought spoken aloud. He had told Leilan he was going to find his children and return, but then fate intercepted and the Icicle Isle was never again in his line of sight.
In fact, much of Castile’s ambitions took an odd turn as of late. Among everything, his attachment to Nerine has even stretched. Although it holds a piece of his heart, he has become less inclined to visit or roam the cave systems like he once did. That could be why Heartfire is here - to bridge the forming gap, or to analyze what the once-prince has since become. With a swivel of his ear, Castile listens and inclines his head. ”Ah. There we go. The real reason you came to visit.” Placid and unbothered, he settles himself and rolls his baroque shoulders in preparation. His wings shuffle and he heavily sighs. ”Alright then. Lay the politics on me, Aunty.” A half-hearted chuckle punctuates the opening of the stage.
castile
@[Heartfire]