a king walks among us
He watches watches watches as she dips her maw into the wine dripping slowly from his horns, slick and sweet as honey.
(The drip drip drip pauses for Eshek - she is softer than a dead thing ought to be, against an onyx blade).
There is light in even the darkest crevices as Eshek looks upon him, speaks to him, so quietly, yes, so softly, and El Rey loves the way she does not grate on his ears like a pit fighter or a thief in an alleyway.
”Come home.”
Home is good and dark and soft and full of words and full of quiet.
Home was.
Home is ruined now with the body of nursemaid and it cannot be taken back.
Home could be the sand he was born on, if only he knew.
But Eshek has offered him a new set of laws to live by, and El Rey thinks he might like them better.
Come home.
She turns light on the chasm behind-now-before her and walks into its nothingness.
El Rey follows his new law.
@Eshek
”in blood the blade, to its golden hilt, I’ll drown,“
I pledge you now, to death they all are bound,
