[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by betrayal on November 13, 2008, 4:01 pm, in reply to "of great limbs gone to chaos : betrayal."
Message modified by board administrator November 14, 2008, 8:44 pm
Come close, black Ilium, where darkness lay, and set your clock to end of days. Come near, young Silver, where silence sounds; lay down your sword and call your hounds.
He hears her - the whispered, cursed harbinger of padded foot on snow; the crisp, hard noise of hoof against rock. It brings her, and all the darkness that defines her, like an eclipse into the clearing; her hounds are the light behind and around her, silhouetting her in ugly greens and yellows. And scarlet, whispers the shard in his ear, and indeed it is scarlet that laces the hollows of their steps, lipping the snow in crimson.
But Betrayal - Keeper, Ageless - finds transcendence in their hungry gaze; in the knifish glint of their teeth, and the swollen, fly-ridden scabs on their sides. She is greeted by eyes that match those of the quiet, lightning-ruled hound that stays closest to her, but they lack the same obedience.
"I heard you became quite popular in Solira last season."
His eyes pass greedily - possessively - over the hounds that mill at her feet, and they react instantly to the shard - surging forward with tails tucked and ears flat, submissive as they crawl on their bellies beneath his feet, and their holed tongues run over his hooves. Between Ilium and Betrayal they alternate in this servant's stance, whining and barking loudly, as dogs will in the presence of their master. And all the while the shard soothes them, healing the cuts and wounds dealt to them by Solira's more resistant fools, strengthening them until their eyes shine the bright gold of Lightning against the dulling green of Earth. The Keeper watches them with dark approval, but he does not lower his head to their begging muzzles.
"You did well for us, Ilium, to bring them our warning." Us, he has become, but he does not even realize he has said it; us and not me. His next inquiry is softer, accompanied by the kind of suffocating arrogance all those with too much power possess.
"Do they blame you."
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