[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by FALCON THAT WASN'T; on March 6, 2009, 5:02 pm K R A T O S
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Embers rain down around him. He stands there, his Air resisting the presence of so much Fire. It feels like a knife twisting in his chest. The Fire is oppressive. The air is pregnant with it. But he doesn’t move. He stands there – a shadow, a ghost alongside the twisted, destroyed branches of Desreal.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers. He remembers all the times he got pissed off at that devil-may-care attitude, that roguish smile and flagrant disregard for anyone aside from himself. But Kratos only ever had a couple friends in this world. When Kyprioth left and Kratos met his stepbrother, Kratos’ first thought was that he’d never disliked anyone so much in his entire life. But Baraqel was persistent. Persistent enough to constantly call into question Kratos’ masculinity and flaunt his Elemental advantage like a showgirl who just got a boob job.
They were friends. Kratos and Baraqel always knew that they were brothers and would give everything for each other.
“You have no right to take my brother from me,”
And that’s when movement catches his eye.
The sunlight that filters through the smoke clouds reflects off of a metallic form, pausing, standing there watching with pale eyes. “You,” Kratos murmurs, his ears slipping to his skull and a sudden desperate hatred flaring up in his gaze.
Kurai takes a step forward, adjusts his wings at his sides. “Are you going to blame me for the Firestarter’s own flaws? You have every ounce of your father’s pride, eaglet. You’ve always thought of yourself as being stronger than your brother, but you aren’t.” Kratos realizes after a moment that Kurai is referring to Kratos’ blood brother, Kyprioth, “You are too cowardly to admit that you are just as preoccupied with heroism as your father is. But you are the one that wasn’t – the one that could have been, but wasn’t. Kratos, broken-winged falcon and nothing more.”
“You’re a liar,” Kratos looks up. He can’t breathe. The Air which has always been his companion feels as if its rebelling against him now, pressing against his lungs. Suffocation, pulsing through his veins as his mind scrambles for reason and ultimately abandons the chase in the form of a stone setting in his eye. “And I don’t care who says if I can fight you. I don’t care how many Shards you have.” He lurches forward – this, the fatal flaw of the falcon clans. “I’ll kill you!”
Kratos’ desperation does not serve him. He is not, in fact, the Falconblade and his passion (so quickly does he abandon all rational forms of combat, all analysis save boundless flight and the whipping gales of a roguish Air!) Kurai needs only leap into the air, blink, and a cyclone wrapped in lightning bolts descends from the heavens and strikes the airborne Kratos.
Kratos, Kurai will tell them, did it to himself.
Kratos, the broken-winged hero that never was.
CAUSE I'M LOSING MY SIGHT
LOSING MY MIND
WISH SOMEBODY WOULD TELL ME I'M FINE
AIR III12
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