T E N E B R A E
On my body, the grace of shadows
and in my heart: all Hells
and in my heart: all Hells
The markets are full of liquor and light and laughter. The cobbles are slick with spilled drink, the lights of the stalls illuminating shadowed faces and the paths between vendors.
Tenebrae weaves this maze - it is nothing like the maze people are whispering about - the one that appeared with ghosts crying in its corners. This is a maze of indulgence and delight. It makes his heart beat faster, his blood run warm, warm, warm. He stays upon the fringes, he needs none of this. Tenebrae was once a boy of nothing and now he is a man of nothing too. All he has he gives away. All of him is spent upon worship and defending his goddess and his court.
A girl stands beside a stall. At her feet a dog with three heads hovers. It watches Tenebrae approach but makes no move to stop him. How difficult it would be to defend himself from three sets of jaws at once… Tenebrae plucks a string of sausages from a stall, drops some black pennies in its place and throws the sausages to the dog.
He turns his bright white eyes upon the girl and the shadows breathe their welcome, pressing like fingers across her face, learning the contours of her with a touch as barely there as a breeze. “Who do you remember?” Tenebrae says to her, to the candle, in his voice as rich and gold as whiskey.
@Polyxena
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