[P] A sea the color of illusion

[Eik]

The image of that fallen cave will haunt him forever. Never had a single sight encapsulated all his shortcomings. (A smell, yes-- ash and burning flesh-- but never a sight-- his eyes had been closed, then) He stared at the rubble until his eyes burn and water, and still be does not blink. How long had she been there? In the belly of the mountain, in the dark, alone-- or worse than alone-- in the company of those crooked men. Where was he? Stumbling through rooms stuffed full of strangers? What was he doing when she was taken? Pretending to be someone he was not, as though a mask would hide his scars? Enjoying himself?  

"Isra..." He says her name in the way he always does, the way that gives that one word a hundred meanings. Most, but not all, are variations of love. He wraps around her, placing gentle kisses all over her, cheek and neck and shoulder, elbow and belly and hips. Inhaling the scent of violence, dried blood (like a rusty blade) and fresh blood and something foul and herbal and sticky-- poison? And when he buries his muzzle in her hair he can smell her, pure Isra, sweet and certain and wrapped in broken glass.

They've made weapons of themselves, and he knows,

He knows this is the start of a war.

"I'm so sorry."

I should have been there-- What they did to you--

Of course, she did not need saving. It doesn't matter. His uselessness aches like an old and angry scar, rubbed the wrong way. He hates his magic, he wants the power to set something on fire or shake the earth or rip and tear and tremble the world in some way. He wants, for once, to destroy with something more effective than tooth and hoof.

He makes a soft sound of disgust and turns to the dragon. "Thank you--" the name comes to him without needing to be grasped for. Maybe he always knew, like the way he loved Isra, impossibly, before they had even met. Like the way he loves her now, so definitely, without even knowing any of the things the other lovers know about each other. (But oh-- he knows more!)

"Thank you Fable." He takes a step toward the Dragon as if to embrace him too, but stops inches away feeling uncertain (how exactly does one embrace a dragon) and instead closes his eyes and opens his magic and shares his gratitude the clear way, one without words to bungle its meaning. Surely his anger and fear and violence fill all the fractures in the emotion he projects, but that's the thing about opening his mind-- there is nothing to hide behind. He hopes the dragon takes it for what it is: a promise.

When Eik turns back to his queen, he pauses. There is something wild in her eyes, something that makes him wonder where this war will lead them, and if there will be any coming back from it.

*
OOC: @Isra <3