resurrect the saint within the wretch
It is not often that the winged stallion finds himself journeying outside of Tephra. He tries to keep the warmth of the volcano and the solitude that it brings; being alone seems to keep the terrible visions at bay (at least, that is what he tells himself) and he finds comfort in the familiarity of it. There is also her - crystalline, bright-eyed, stubborn, beautiful - that tends to his burdens and the weight of it across his shoulders. She keeps the darkness away - at least for a time - and he finds that her touch seems to melt away any shadows that try to infiltrate his mind.
Perhaps it is the cold that draws him out of Tephra. It had been a long while since had soared on the wind-scrubbed skies of winter and felt the chill of it deep within his marrow. Cold and unforgiving (it made him feel alive and breathing), the wind bites and scraps at his auburn and white skin, ripping against the ivory of his great wings without mercy. The freshly fallen snow ladens the ground in huge, white dollops, sparkling and inviting to his navy eyes that watch from above. It’s a beautiful sight and rather lovely, but even in the brightness of the sun does his mind fall to a darker place.
A severed wing. A dark god. Black and gold feathers. Oh, the blood. The cries for help - the confusion.
The vision is still seared in Warden’s mind like it had only just happened. She had been another victim of his own. Not Carnage’s, but the Watcher. He had been there with her in her last breaths, but did nothing as she choked on her own blood.
With a sweeping tip of his left wing, the horned stallion slowly spirals downward towards the river that lay like a crystalline snake below him. Too fast moving to become solid ice during the winter months, the river rushes loudly as Warden comes to land beside it with a solid thud of his blue opaled hooves hitting a mixture of snow and pebble. He comes to the river’s edge - ice crunching beneath his hooves - and stops to stare at his rippling reflection, lost in his thoughts and in his visions, replaying them over and over as if to torture himself for things he cannot change.
Movement catches the deep ocean blue of his empty stare and he glances to his left, squinting. He is sure it is only a trick of his eyes - a winter hare jumping into the shadows, a cardinal taking to the skies to fill its nest - but then he realizes he is not mistaken. He isn’t alone.
The stallion tilts his horned head, the blue opal shining brilliantly in the sunlight. The tiny body is as white as freshly fallen snow, hidden almost expertly in between the greyscale of winter. When he sees the deep onyx of her wings, however, Warden’s blood runs cold and he is sure his heart is about to beat from his chest.
I saw you die.
The thought comes to his head and he is quick to keep it from coming out of his mouth as well. Instead, he halts, frozen as if the winter’s temperatures had finally gotten to him. At a loss for words but knowing he couldn’t simply stare and not say anything, he finally speaks. “Hello?” he gently asks, because maybe he is wrong - maybe he had only found her body, and his premonition had been true. He swallows hard.
Or it hadn’t happened yet.
@[Astra Daggenhardt] <3
