[AW] City of Stone

[Raum]

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

 


The thunk came and if Caine cried out Raum did not hear it over the crowd. He had moved through the crowd, surrounded by guards, stepping over and through the detritus of things thrown at him. He still clutched Caine’s letter, Sabine’s name stained in blood and mud.
 
He took the letter to his room, he closed the door and sat. He sat until darkness bled into his room, until the sun was drowned by night and he was little more than a splash of moonlight in an ocean of black.
 
There he still sits, and her name is still repeating in his mind. Sabine, Sabine. But Rhoswen’s name echoes. Rhoswen’s death, the pyre, the pyre. He would have gone to find her ashes, to bring her home, had he known, had he known. But he did not know and she is lost to the wind, to the tumbling fall from Veneror’s jagged face. She lies in the pieces he made of her. She exists in smoke and wind. He hears her, he smells her, and by the gods he still hates her. But loves her.
 
Love. It is a whip across his spine.
 
Love. It is electricity blazing a shock through his body.
 
Love. It turns him to stone.
 
But Sabine. Sabine.
 
His girl who loves him too much, who will not stop loving him. Ah, she is foolish, she is salvation. His Little Bird is strong and bright and so utterly stupid.
 
I am sorry. He had said, for everything that he had done that brought her pain. She demanded apologies of him. She demanded he apologise to those he had wronged and he is no fool. There is no deed he regrets. Yet there is blood upon Raum’s tongue. It is metallic and sweet and he hopes that it is poison but he knows it is only Acton. There is the feel of Sera’s body beneath his paw, the crunch, the collision, the stinging ache she left after. There is Isra and the sting of a thousand hornets upon his skin.
 
His eyes are closed in the dark of his room. He has not stirred for hours.
 
He thinks, thinks, thinks.
 
He grieves, grieves, grieves.
 
He loves, loves, loves.
 
Had he not caught Caine, the Rebellion would know about Sabine. Ah, something twists, it clenches within him and steals his breath. Fia would know he had a daughter and how can he keep her quiet now? How can he protect her when all Solterra watched as the throne room window broke as the statue he threw fell through it and down, down, down to obliterate in the dust and dirt? They all know here – will she pay for his crimes too?
 
Did Rhoswen even care? Did she care when she took her life and asked Sabine to care for him. Did she care for their daughter at all? He came to ruin Rhoswen, he came to steal her court and choke it, make it suffer, grovel. It began with Denocte, it began with Reichenbach and a Crow in love with a Day girl. Love, love breaks them.
 
What is there now? His head lifts with the dawn, slowly, slowly. His eyes open and they are blue as water, deep as the ocean. He turns. He turns and leaves his room, calling Legion. The monster comes as the morning ebbs. Patience, patience. The king hears the monster’s cry clawing through Solterra’s streets. Slowly he steps out from the shade of the castle. The last he had done this was to the song of Caine’s chains. Now there is only silence, though a monster waits at the foot of the stair. It tilts its skull toward him, listening.
 
Raum sends the basilisk on ahead of him. Never had their pairing been like pairings should. Always Raum vowed the creature’s freedom and he murmurs to it now. “For the last time, and you are free.”
 
And how, Raum wonders, can he protect his daughter? What more is there to do in Solterra when his lover is dead and the Rebellion catches word of Sabine? Slowly he unravels the silk from the basilisk’s blood drop eyes. The great beast shudders as the silk floats away. Raum watches the scarf go, he remembers it about Rhoswen’s throat and suddenly he is too full, full full.
 
He is split and spitting. Ire is wild within him, it wars with grief, it swells like a bruise, it burns like gasoline. Rhoswen’s sun is laughing at the man he is, he has become. Rhoswen’s ghost is weeping and Acton stands beside her, bright as a spark, black as pitch. He does not look, he does not look but fury turns his gaze, desolation, solitude, loneliness has a scream clawing its way up his throat.
 
He does not have a statue, he does not have Sabine to cower from him, to soften the frayed edges of him. “Legion!” He hisses, a whisper, a command, a poisonous decree.
 
And the beast turns its gaze upon Solterra, the first civilian is changed, then the next and the next and the next. Over and over and over and yet more and more and more. They begin to run, but they turn back, they look, the fear for their lives and they look. The beasts tail thrashes, but Raum is far enough back. He moves like a Ghost, behind his monster. Screams are ahead of him but behind is silence, he steps through a quiet, stone world. Horses rear and gallop and thrash and cower. Some still stand in shock, they all look, though, they all look at the monster.
 
“Don’t look” Raum murmurs, but he does not stop Legion. He follows deeper and deeper into Solterra’s city  they flee, they flee and all he can think, as he looks at the statues is if they can feel. Can they feel anything at all?
 
His lips part, to call Legion back, he looks upon the monster, he- he closes his lips and looks to the ground and walks to the sounds of anarchy and silence.

---

@Eik @Isra @Seraphina
This is the beginning of the end. Raum is going to be stopped in this thread. If you would like your char turned to stone, then reply to this! No char needs to be indefinitely turned. They will all be turned back (or those who want to be) and it is up to you whether your char carries any long term scarring if you chose to have them turned into stone. Basically, do as you wish friends!