He had never known fear and love to commingle.
The stallion awoke, drenched in a frigid sweat, shivering to the point of convulsions upon the stone floor of the great library that he had made his second home. Pupils contracted and dilated over and over and over beneath blackened lids, the stallion's body not his own, his heart stammering out an answer to the questions that he couldn't even bring himself to ask. Twin plaits were wrapped about his neck, threatening to strangle him, their ebony lengths thick and made all the heavier by being soaked in the regent's sweat. He could taste the salty tang of it on his lips and the old bitter iron of swallowed blood. Prodding the inside of his mouth with a clumsy tongue, the stallion winced as he found that he had bit a rather impressive hole into his own cheek.
Moments passed and Camdis still could not bring himself to open his eyes, still could not control his limbs enough to rise from his place cowering upon the floor.
Caligo? He called out with his thoughts, too weak and terrified to use his own voice amidst the stifling silence. The bay and scarlet stag swallowed thickly, throat raw from the screams he had choked upon - but no, the dream couldn't have been real, it was only a dream. The great and terrible creature that had towered above him, with her voice of honey and doom; she had riffled through his head and thoughts and memories like so many pages of a long forgotten tome. She had displayed such fearsome power, an endless void of being so dark and so rife with bitterness and cold... That could not have been his goddess. Caligo was night incarnate, the space between heart beats, the silence that filled the conjunction between breaths; she was gentle and all encompassing, a mother and a warrior all at once. She would never have harmed one of her devout children, never have wrenched her loyal son's soul with such uncaring ease.
Would she?
Camdis gritted his teeth to bite back the pained moan building within his throat as he forced his eyes to open. Yet, he could not stifle the hiss of displeasure as the low light of lanterns bit into his silvery gaze and drove daggers into his skull. With an effort, he raised his great horned skull, lengths of onyx hair tangled and wrapped about the twin crescents of bone. Eyes narrowed against the painful glow, the regent shook his head slowly and with care, ears pinned beneath the wild and sweaty mass of mane that had threatened to strangle him mere moments before. Already, he could feel the memory of agony easing from his bones, releasing it's hold on his heart and lungs as he attempted a deeper breath.
"It could have been She," He murmured to himself, voice hoarse and brutalized from pain and exhaustion. Eyes climbing up the shadowed walls and toward the point where ceiling faded into unlit darkness, Camdis Lohir swallowed again, finding that the physical pain that encumbered him as a result of his vision was more hesitant to leave his frame. Gaze still trained heavenward, the stallion tried to stand, yet found that he couldn't control any of his muscles beneath his shoulders. A panicked gasp worked it's way from his chest as his throat spasmed with a newly cultivated fear - It could have been She. It could have been a reckoning. It could have been She.
"Caligo!" Cried Denocte's Regent, betrayal and confusion lacing his words with a heaviness that could have dragged him to hell if he had let it. Yet, there was an undercurrent of love there, too; a river of undying, unfaltering devotion. The knowledge of such a devotion only made Camdis' terror all the more palpable, "Was it you? What did you mean? Where did you go? Caligo!"
It was not the voice of an Exile King, nor a stallion, nor a Regent that floated from onyx lips and ricocheted over dusty tomes and ancient texts, no, it was the voice of a scared boy, a lonely child who had felt too much and loved too few. Nothing made sense and Camdis worried that his grip upon reality was faint at best. Slowly, he lowered his skull back to the sweat damp floor and allowed silvery eyes to flutter closed, overcome with an exhaustion that sapped at the small strength that he had regained. As Reichenbach's second spiraled down into a dreamless slumber, the entity's words encircled his blackened heart, piercing the silence of sleep with each pulse.
Dark like the void...
The stallion awoke, drenched in a frigid sweat, shivering to the point of convulsions upon the stone floor of the great library that he had made his second home. Pupils contracted and dilated over and over and over beneath blackened lids, the stallion's body not his own, his heart stammering out an answer to the questions that he couldn't even bring himself to ask. Twin plaits were wrapped about his neck, threatening to strangle him, their ebony lengths thick and made all the heavier by being soaked in the regent's sweat. He could taste the salty tang of it on his lips and the old bitter iron of swallowed blood. Prodding the inside of his mouth with a clumsy tongue, the stallion winced as he found that he had bit a rather impressive hole into his own cheek.
Moments passed and Camdis still could not bring himself to open his eyes, still could not control his limbs enough to rise from his place cowering upon the floor.
Caligo? He called out with his thoughts, too weak and terrified to use his own voice amidst the stifling silence. The bay and scarlet stag swallowed thickly, throat raw from the screams he had choked upon - but no, the dream couldn't have been real, it was only a dream. The great and terrible creature that had towered above him, with her voice of honey and doom; she had riffled through his head and thoughts and memories like so many pages of a long forgotten tome. She had displayed such fearsome power, an endless void of being so dark and so rife with bitterness and cold... That could not have been his goddess. Caligo was night incarnate, the space between heart beats, the silence that filled the conjunction between breaths; she was gentle and all encompassing, a mother and a warrior all at once. She would never have harmed one of her devout children, never have wrenched her loyal son's soul with such uncaring ease.
Would she?
Camdis gritted his teeth to bite back the pained moan building within his throat as he forced his eyes to open. Yet, he could not stifle the hiss of displeasure as the low light of lanterns bit into his silvery gaze and drove daggers into his skull. With an effort, he raised his great horned skull, lengths of onyx hair tangled and wrapped about the twin crescents of bone. Eyes narrowed against the painful glow, the regent shook his head slowly and with care, ears pinned beneath the wild and sweaty mass of mane that had threatened to strangle him mere moments before. Already, he could feel the memory of agony easing from his bones, releasing it's hold on his heart and lungs as he attempted a deeper breath.
"It could have been She," He murmured to himself, voice hoarse and brutalized from pain and exhaustion. Eyes climbing up the shadowed walls and toward the point where ceiling faded into unlit darkness, Camdis Lohir swallowed again, finding that the physical pain that encumbered him as a result of his vision was more hesitant to leave his frame. Gaze still trained heavenward, the stallion tried to stand, yet found that he couldn't control any of his muscles beneath his shoulders. A panicked gasp worked it's way from his chest as his throat spasmed with a newly cultivated fear - It could have been She. It could have been a reckoning. It could have been She.
"Caligo!" Cried Denocte's Regent, betrayal and confusion lacing his words with a heaviness that could have dragged him to hell if he had let it. Yet, there was an undercurrent of love there, too; a river of undying, unfaltering devotion. The knowledge of such a devotion only made Camdis' terror all the more palpable, "Was it you? What did you mean? Where did you go? Caligo!"
It was not the voice of an Exile King, nor a stallion, nor a Regent that floated from onyx lips and ricocheted over dusty tomes and ancient texts, no, it was the voice of a scared boy, a lonely child who had felt too much and loved too few. Nothing made sense and Camdis worried that his grip upon reality was faint at best. Slowly, he lowered his skull back to the sweat damp floor and allowed silvery eyes to flutter closed, overcome with an exhaustion that sapped at the small strength that he had regained. As Reichenbach's second spiraled down into a dreamless slumber, the entity's words encircled his blackened heart, piercing the silence of sleep with each pulse.
Dark like the void...
@Random Events AAA
