He sighed pensively. "I wish I had time for hope." Harsh, but he continued. "I know what I can do, and I'll do that. Duty is a far more enduring idea than hope."
If Raymond had ever needed proof of the corrupting influence of power, he now had to look no further than the gates looming high overhead, hazy with airborne ash. From the time he'd spent learning what he could about the courts and their deities, he'd thought Night was meant to be the kingdom of rebellion, the land apart, a place of powerful innovative energy that resisted tradition in favor of inner strength. Had he not followed Calliope to the clutches of Terrastella, the red stallion would surely have ended up here. But through complacency and arrogance the regime had fallen prey to the rot that claims all mediocre leaders.
One cannot attack one's own people and remain in power. One cannot entrap one's own people and remain in power. Beat a dog too savagely, and soon that dog will bite back. Thus passed Reichenbach and his aides.
The raven issued a raucous kraaak that echoed off the open gate, and with a ruffle of its inky feathers it took wing at last back to the rookery.
"Bold of you to assume they felt any guilt," he replied. He was firmly of the opinion that the chiefest of their mistakes had been believing their own hype. "Their successor will do well to remember their mistake. I must be going; I imagine we'll meet again, Araxes."
With a formal nod and a trembling of his shoulders that dislodged the stray feathers his raven messenger had left, the red stallion turned and continued in silence through the gates, deeper into Denocte.
Raymond.
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
and at his feet they'll cast their golden crowns
when the man comes around
@Araxes | just finishing this up
aut viam inveniam aut faciam
