I'll be a stone, I'll be the hunter,
The tower that casts a shade
***
The tower that casts a shade
***
Deep in the Arma mountains, far from the beaten paths leading into and out of Denocte, the ancient peaks gave way to the vastness of the Terminus Sea, bending in supplication to its eternal dominance. Raymond stood pensively on a stony outcropping overlooking the shoreline still miles to the west. From there he could see the Praistigia Cliffs unfold like a ribbon along Terrastella's southern border, and somewhere in there shadow he knew a sea creature lay in eternal repose, its hollow breast echoing with dreams of red and black.
Life has a way of pushing you forward more quickly than you realize. Raymond rarely succumbed to the temptation to look back, to see what he sowed in the wake of his relentless reaping, but so much has happened in so little time that it was enough to unsettle even him.
Out past the range and across those tumultuous waters were things the red stallion was reluctant to leave behind, and he had left them. It was his nature to resist attachment, to enforce a solitude that he would never have chosen for himself. Ruth was reminder enough of the wisdom of such a lifestyle, but through their brief companionships he had lowered his guard to form other bonds, to become familiar with others.
And now he almost - almost - felt guilty for forsaking a title only just bestowed upon him by someone he might tentatively regard as a friend. He would not regret, for the ends justified far more radical means than he had ultimately needed to employ, but he knew Florentine well enough by now that he at least had the decency to feel a twinge of sympathy.
At the very least he had not lied to her. Terrastella was no more his home than the riftlands had been, and the flower maiden would always in his mind be the bright-eyed girl that had saved a dying kitten for naught but kindness's sake. That was of far greater importance to him than any title she bore.
Life has a way of pushing you forward more quickly than you realize. Raymond rarely succumbed to the temptation to look back, to see what he sowed in the wake of his relentless reaping, but so much has happened in so little time that it was enough to unsettle even him.
Out past the range and across those tumultuous waters were things the red stallion was reluctant to leave behind, and he had left them. It was his nature to resist attachment, to enforce a solitude that he would never have chosen for himself. Ruth was reminder enough of the wisdom of such a lifestyle, but through their brief companionships he had lowered his guard to form other bonds, to become familiar with others.
And now he almost - almost - felt guilty for forsaking a title only just bestowed upon him by someone he might tentatively regard as a friend. He would not regret, for the ends justified far more radical means than he had ultimately needed to employ, but he knew Florentine well enough by now that he at least had the decency to feel a twinge of sympathy.
At the very least he had not lied to her. Terrastella was no more his home than the riftlands had been, and the flower maiden would always in his mind be the bright-eyed girl that had saved a dying kitten for naught but kindness's sake. That was of far greater importance to him than any title she bore.
***
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
Raymond
And at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the man comes around.
@
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